Disclaimer: Teen Titans isn't mine.
Another closed form poem - this one is written in something called the Onegin stanza.
The vivid colors spiral brightly,
A picture painted many hues,
Mosaic rippling outward lightly,
Of reds and greens and deep, deep blues.
A pool that, dyed in colorful circles,
Spreads out, a shimmering lake of purples.
A girl stares at the tinted pond;
To her, it seems the rings respond.
Divergent hues, the bands of color,
Distinct and separate, each unique,
And each an independent streak -
But isolated each seems smaller;
Apart, they're not much on their own,
Each ring seems so forlorn, alone -
The separate portions, lonesome segments,
But merely pieces of the whole,
Disparate tones, parts of her soul;
Alone, they're naught but pitiful fragments -
Although, it's true, they are vivacious,
They're full of energy; audacious,
Flirtatious, gracious, sometimes sad,
Still others rude, some easily mad;
Reflected in the lively tincture -
Expressive color, vibrant rings,
The dazzling water practically sings -
A mural, painting, spirited picture;
But not apart, they're all too plain;
Together, then, they keep her sane.
Prismatic spring, vibrant painting,
With all its colors, it's complete,
Without, it's just a plain blank sheet,
With all its rare uniqueness fading.
Like her, its rings are only pieces,
The fragments that her soul releases.
Alone, they're naught but stereotypes,
Conjoined, they form the rainbow's stripes;
Her separate pieces, each a copy,
They're all the portions of her mind,
The different sides, when all combined,
Make up the being of her body -
Just like the iridescent spring,
Full unity, the waters bring.