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The True Colours

They do eventually shine through

By Colleen Millsteed Published 10 months ago 1 min read
Image courtesy of Pixabay

She turned out to be a conundrum, a pixelated personality,

But you’d never have known if you’d met her casually!

Stick around for a while — a long, long while,

Your eyes will be opened to the true reality.

***

A picture of innocence, quietly unassuming,

A mouse sitting in the corner waiting ever so patiently,

Mild, meek, even timid in appearance,

Biding her time so very quietly.

***

She walks by your side in total agreeance,

Or in silence, following along blindly,

Not one to rock the boat or cause a conniption,

Rather, a somewhat bland and boring personality.

***

She doesn’t cause a fuss, she’ll follow like a lamb to the slaughter,

No judgement will pass her lips, no words uttered angrily,

She’s just there to enjoy the ride,

Convincing you she just loves your company.

***

Not quite what I’d call a sunny disposition,

No, more a slightly covered grey sky, the sun shining mildly,

No chance of being burned, scolded or blistered,

Sitting in the shade she casts safely.

***

Years flow in her wake, ingrained into your expectation,

Convincing us all of who she is — rather blindly,

Decades in the making, until she wakes the beast that hides,

Claws firmly anchored, her strength iron-clad, her grip held tightly.

***

The monster rises slowly, coming to the fore,

Where it’s laid hidden, disguised so cunningly,

The planning, the devastation, the destruction,

Wrought upon us all so evilly.

***

Emerging the cruelty of a personality that takes no prisoners,

Muscling aside the strong and impersonating the weak so cleverly,

Integrating those she fooled throughout the years, captured within her net,

Leveraging the fodder she stored so secretly,

Yes, the true colours arise and shine so horrifically!

Free Verse

About the Creator

Colleen Millsteed

My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.

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Comments (4)

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  • Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock10 months ago

    My greatest fear--that one day my true colors will emerge for all to see.

  • True colours can never be hidden for long. I learnt a new word from you, conniption. Loved your poem!

  • Rohitha Lanka10 months ago

    Amazing !!! A beautifully layered portrayal, well written and good luck.

  • Marie381Uk 10 months ago

    Wonderful witchy poetry I love it 🌻🌻🌻🌻🏆🖌️🌻

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