Laura Cummings (Friday 16th October 1987 / Alexander Hospital, Redditch.)
Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust.
Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold.
Raising flowers, changing seasons,
singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear.
Little tiny people in little tiny clothes.
Pink, White and Baby Blue,
Only innocent eyes can see.
Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin.
Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten.
Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in.
Lost memories and lost dreams,
innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.
Comments about this poem (PINK by Laura Cummings )
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