Red Flag

A week ago the flag was white,
Yet now its postbox, phone box red,
Blood red.

And they're multiplying.

I don't mind the flags,
They provide a sort of comfort,
In their own confused way.

They provide a secret language.
Words I cannot utter.
Thoughts I hate to admit.

I wish I could change the colour.
In fact there are other colours.

The envious green
The purplexed purple
The gloomy grey.

Sadly the red warning is where its at.
I hope with time it will fade,
From red through dusty pink,
Back to the non needy white.

At least the flags are not only seen by my eyes.
You help me recognise.
Leaving the flags flying in the past.