Dance, Dance, Dance

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I hate my birthday. I'm getting old, man! Just kidding... I'm sixteen. But every time my the day comes around I feel that I've wasted yet another year of my life. So, anyway, I thought I'd write about it. Enjoy!

-Bany

Submitted: November 29, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 29, 2011

A A A

A A A


Remember when the skies were
Blue?
And the doves flew
High?
Back when rainbows arched and
Glittered

Clap hands
Spin around
A, B, C
One, two, three
(Simple)

"Happy birthday!"
The sky instantly 
Darkens,
The rainbows:
Faded,
And the dove toting olives
Flees

What happened?
We grew up.
Cliques, beauty acceptance;
Pain.

If we could escape...
Would you?
To the days of finger paints
And play?

Clap hands,
Spin around,
A,B,C,
One, two, three.

Dance...
Dance...
Dance...


© Copyright 2017 Bany. All rights reserved.

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