A budding writer's collection

Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer

Life is beautiful,

Look at that bougainvillea,

So vibrantly pink,

So unapologetically flamboyant.

Did you notice that white hibiscus?

Strawberry pink lines its body

Its joy in being itself,

Seeping through all that's "right"

Yes, I looked into the mirror,

The girl who smiled back,

She was happy,

She was joyful,

She was her.

The 'her' of her dreams.

She didn't want to be spoken for,

Not when her voice was starting to be heard

She didn't want to be someone else's,

Not when she was barely her own.

Yet, the follies of that pleasant afternoon,

Hauntings of her ludicrous longings,

For a moment, however tiny,

She thought she could be his.

She imagined a life,

She knew she was being unreasonable

Oh, who cares when there's joy to be had,

However fleeting, no matter if it's imaginative.

But, he was her's,

And she was hit with the force of a squall

Everyone is someone else's,

And she is barely her own.

She was happy, being her own,

She was happy, dancing giddily in the forest of youth,

She was happy, believe me you,

But she let hope have a place in there deep.

Is it the naivety of her doe eyes,

Or, the risible red nose,

Her lashes bow downwards in shame

But her red nose is amused by it all

It feeds her delusion,

And let's her fly,

For however short a time.