Red

Blood is red for a reason.
To remind us we're all the same,
no matter color of skin,
beliefs, faith, or season.
A color of love and anger,
a line sometimes blurred
between the two by dirty fingers
smearing the ink,
rest assured those fingers belong to hands
that are controlled by minds that never think.

The color of love,
a beautiful existence;
a thing we cannot see.
Only by feeling,
and, for some, by messages from great distance,
can we truly know that it's a real thing.

The color of rage,
a thing ill-composed,
red turned black is
the story usually told.
Vigor and vitality
snuffed out in an instant of greed,
seeing only shapes and thinking in waves
of feelings and distant connections
that the mind can be relate.

The color of blood, the color of life;
a color of strength that causes so many to unite.

Blood is red for a reason.
We bleed red for a reason.