Bleeding Colours

I was standing there.
All alone.
Watching them all
In slow motion.
Waiting for the two words
They were about to hear.
“She’s gone.”
Like birds in the wind.
I was standing there,
But they didn’t know.
They thought I was gone,
Vanished in the storm.
Some cried,
Like bleeding colours.
While I was standing
All alone.
Invisible, yet somehow seen.

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