Fire red hair,
Carefree gleam in oceon eyes,
Dancing like wind,
Freckled sandy skin,
Beauty of the moon at night.
It seems an artist saw our sky and thought "how very plain"
He got out his paints and made many attempts but all ended in vain,
The yellow acidic the blue electric he wondered if there was a way,
To paint our sky like a lullaby to make us forget our day,
Then he reached to the sky and grabbed the moon,
Promising to return it soon,
He picked a daisy and a rose,
A dandelion and a violet,
And stuck them on our sky,
Then it rained and the colours seeped towards the sun,
As it drips down to the horizon.
A china cup slips from your hand and you feel it leave your grasp,
As it falls you smile and want to feel the falling sensation,
The wind cool your neck,
The freedom of falling,
Breaking the chains of society and rules,
Your head rushes,
Yet you are calm,
Grinning as you float to the sky,
The cup smashes on the floor.