Black.

 I choose the colour black,

for it is often bold

It sits there on the darkest day,

often unheard and alone.

 

Entails a certain flavor, one’s night-less shade

Singled-out and alone

Yet never afraid

Appears condemned yet constant disappearing

Cacophonic sounds another ensemble

 

The pedestal vaults

What metallic crust

But soon the colour black

Will change to rust

 

To turn;to die; to wither away

Like noone’s promise

Like no  yesterday. 

Reviews

[Moon]

Nice write, black is a bold color and is often disliked for silly reasons. Thank you for sharing.

[DeathByChoice]

This is an awesome poem, you are such a good poet! Its really original too.