Of Black

There is beauty to the colour black.
It somehow holds within
Everything that other colours,
Bright and soft,
Fail to contain.
Black has, to it,
A rough, used feel
That tells a million stories
Of people who feel deeply
And live to tell the tale.
Black is the honorary colour
Worn by lovers, poets, and mourners alike,
For it is they who have hearts
That have been chafed and mishandled,
And thrown onto the black ground.

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