Apart

Brown is the colour,
of my eyes,
the ones you will,
soon despise.

Red is the colour,
of my lips,
the ones you will,
soon wish you kissed.

Black is my heart,
made of coal,
the one which,
you once stole.

Gentle is the touch,
of my fingertips,
the touch you will,
soon surely miss.

Red is the colour,
of your heart,
the one I'm about,
to tear apart.