Pride Of The Six Coloured Rainbow

By Disha Ransingh

Have you ever ran to the woodland with Shakespeare under the moonbeam

and heard him say in that play of midsummer night’s dream

that love doesn’t look through eyes, so blind is that winged cupid,

then who are we to give someone an eye or roll our eyes,

when that ‘someone’s love has a special coloured wing to rise;

The megaphones roar for us to dream and dare to be different

but when a piece of gold sits with sand, its only fate's to be stolen or kept,

does the air favour or scathe while gifting breath everywhere

Then who are we to cage someone up in that free air?

Or how and why does it even bother us in the slightest way?

If 'he' lets his nails have those glittery shades of pink and purple

and ‘she' wears skin art instead of a bracelet and bangle;

Do you roll your car windows up the way you closed your heart?

when you see ‘them’ coming in the midst of a crowded traffic jam

or does your ear hurt more with their claps than horns or door slams?

Strange, how their clap's the only clap that’s disregarding

and if we can’t give a job then why do we barge if they sell their blessings?;

All these years, we have been cutting the rope of their trapeze

never knowing the braided strands of rope are just breakable peace,

We never know how our burst of laughter was them crying hysterically

when heard some 'man' brought flowers for another ‘man' from the nearby tree,

So why don’t we let that six-coloured rainbow shine in a blissful blue sky

and let it fall on the golden street of pride when we pass it by.

By Disha Ransingh