Red Hair

Her red hair glinted in the sunlight
As it softly fell on her face and neck
It fanned out on the white bed
And shifted with a life of its own.
It threw shadows across her face
Her eyes shaded
She looked up at me
Through the strands
And in that one moment,
There was love.

Injustice

He looked up and shook his head; the colorful spots had returned. They played hide and seek on the white ceiling. Usually he would play their ever changing game for hours at a time, admiring the pretty shades they displayed. But, not this time. He looked away quickly and his eyes searched the room. It was late in the afternoon and the sunlight barely filtered in through the blinds. He soon found what he was looking for. A boy of about 7 crouched in the corner, he looked terrified and hid his face behind his knees. The 11 year old got out of bed and sighed heavily. It was as if he knew. He drew the younger boy closer and held him while the 7 year old cried and blubbered about how his uncle was a cruel cruel man.
He was 18 and he watched from the window as the 16 year old boy got beaten up for standing up against his uncle. When he walked out of the house, the older boy silently walked beside him; just that act strengthening the bruised and broken boy. He looked away and wiped the blood off his lip.
He was 24, the spots had returned, it was yet another day. Only this time, there were voices accompanying the colours. His 7 year old self held his hand and whispered a song while his 16 year old self told him that it was now his turn to heal; that he had done all he could to comfort his younger selves. His 20 year old self screamed out at the injustice of the blow on his head for reporting a murder he had witnessed 13 years ago and the frustration at his uncle still walking free.
The 24 year old blinked and drew in a deep breath. The ceiling was blue and he had a lot to say. He was out of a coma after 4 long years after all...

A Stream of Thought

When told to follow the stream of consciousness and write the lines of the poem as and when instructed, without being given much time for thought, this is what I came up with; or rather, my mind did.

In the starry sky hung the blue moon,
She looked up and sighed,
Tossed her hair and was in a swoon,
By the pool silent tears she cried.

He was gone forever and buried,
The ripples distorted her face,
In the dark, creatures scurried,
Memories; it was the place.

The graves stood tall; grey,
The breeze lilting and swaying,
A fine night in May,
A donkey in the distance braying.

A hand shot out of the ground,
And held her ankle tight,
She screamed, a heart-wrenching sound,
And she'd disappeared into the night.

A body soon followed the hand,
Mottled and falling apart,
All over shifted the sand,
And then fell over the cart.
Zombie Apocalypse!