The Colour of Love : Red

He watched her greedily,
drinking her in with his eyes
while in his heart he was sure
If she knew, she would despise.

He'd coveted her since he was eight
Every moment, every minute
Her gentle grace and kindness
Her beauty and her wit

He remembered how
She'd stood up for him
In the playground, against them all
Who teased him for his ragged clothes
Who tripped him and made him fall
They taunted him,
for he was a petty thief
And yet she'd protected him
He blushed crimson when she smiled

His thievery, his rudeness
His wild anger, foul-mouthed and crass
She saw through the layers
For what he really was
Scared and alone, poor and ugly
A hunchback and a limp
Abandoned by his creators
His existence a mere whim
The orphanage was a cold place
No love did roam in its corridors
Whiplashes, screams and tears apart
Utter loneliness knocked at the door



She was the only one who cared
The one who gave him hope
Little did she know
She gave him courage to cope
When Life in all its bleakness
Throttled him in its grip
He remembered how she smiled
And her friendship

She did not pity him
Or shrink away in disgust
She made him feel human
And the world seem less unjust.
He loved her deeply
Truly and madly even
She liked him with all her heart
She knew he deserved more than he'd been given
They grew closer
With every passing summer
He loved her more than ever
His heart grew ever warmer
He pledged his life to her
He vowed to give her all
that she wanted and more
But never did he say it aloud

He left his thieving days of old
But carried a jackknife, just to feel safe
He started with a new vigour
He fought to keep up with the pace
He slaved and saved and scrimped
He studied days and worked nights
He skinned himself to the bone
And yet she was his shining light
She saw in him a determination
that sparkled and shone
And she was delighted at him standing
Up for himself, on his own

She was probably too close........
She did not see the lovelight in his eyes
She missed his sighs
She overlooked his eagerness
To make her his own, his Life.
She could not see past her childhood friend
Whom she loved, but could never Love

'Twas ten years to the day
Since they'd first met on the playground
'Twas the day he chose to propose
To bare his soul to her at long last
He called her to the playground that night
In the moonlight he thought he'd say
All that he'd wanted to
Every single day

And as he watched her from afar
Drinking her in with his eyes
She walked smiling toward him...
But she was not alone that night

She strode hand in hand with someone else
Tall, handsome and debonair
No suggestion of deformity or depravity
And oh, how she bloomed in his embrace
They kissed goodbye at the gate
And parted.
She reached out for him, her "friend"
And told him with a glow
That this was the man she loved
And she wanted him to be the first to know


He stared, disbelieving
What was this cruel blow fate had dealt
Did she not love him, was he not hers?
And that was when he realised...
What he'd seen, and all he'd missed...
For he had been hers all his life, to do as she pleased..
But she was not, and never had been, his......

A wave of panic filled him
It left him numb for a while
He tried to collect his shattered dreams
His mouth filled with bile
A cold anger sprouted in his heart
She would be his, or not be at all.
To possess and own and conquer
It was all he wanted, all he cared for
How dare she spurn him
After having led him on
His whole life was based on a falsehood
He'd been living a lie all along
She was the thief, not him
For she'd stolen everything from him
His one chance at being human

A fire consumed him
A crimson tide
A possessive passion filled him
He was never more dead, yet never more alive

As she hugged him goodbye
A solitary tear made its way down his cheek
And he thrust his knife into her, again and again
She gasped in pain, and looked up surprised
A second later she fell, still uncomprehending
And as she took her last breath
Her eyes were bewildered

A wise man once said
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
The wise man had not accounted for the hunchback
Who would have set the world on fire

And as the fire ate into him when he saw her dead
The Colour of his Love was Red
























6 comments:

  1. Anonymous12:57 AM

    You are one hell of a writer ... simply great !!!

    Dharam

    ReplyDelete
  2. Holy Shit !! Amazing poem... I read it twice to finally get it... but amazing and awesome...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm flattered.. thank you very much :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous11:53 PM

    awesome.. is dat the word!!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hey Meenakshi.. First time on your blog.. and oh boy, i loved this poem..

    great thought and esp. loved the way you concluded it.. packs a punch..

    ReplyDelete

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