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The Colours of the Sun
She had a scar on her forehead
A black eye and a shaking hand.
Dizzy, with unsteady steps
She assured us she was fine.
Awkward pauses we tried to fill
With comments on the weather and sports.
We tried to tell her all the things
We’d whispered in the hallways of our dorm.
<em>I’ve been sleeping a lot
Dozing off.
Forgetting why I am here
Watching people tell me how.</em>
We’d tell you if you’d let us.
I would count the second you were asleep
And when you wake up
I’d describe every moment with the colour of the sun.
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