• penitdown 6w

    Grief has its own colours
    and it’s not always black and white
    Sometimes it’s the last petal of cherry blossom
    hanging in against the testy wind
    Sometimes it’s the pale band on a
    finger left by the ring worn for years
    Sometimes it’s a smile slouching on red lips
    Sometimes those dark circles carefully hidden
    by concealer yet prominent to careful eyes
    Sometimes grief is black and white
    And sometimes it’s as plain as the person holding it