A Poem I Was Awarded A Bronze Medal for in July 2001

Monochrome/MonaKhroma

She looks out the window,
She is monochrome true.
Her speech is song,
Her soul glows blue.

Her hair frizzles and it frazzles,
She knows and I don't know.
As the sun burns the morning cold,
I must come and I must go.

Zygote of a pregnant miracle
Was, is, she will always be.

Yannick Nesta Pessoa
Copyright ©2004 Yannick Nesta Pessoa