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Rejection. An odd little poem... never written anything else quite like it.

I’m a silly little girl to consider the myth that you were serious

And believing in a game of pretend was only wishful thinking

I’m just a child, bruised from a fall, sitting on the park swing, watching the clouds move up and down, back and forth, and watching them grow greyer, blacker; darker with the promise of enough downpour to wash away these tear-trails, to clean up all these dirty cuts, and soak right through my torn and dirty clothes.

How foolish of me to be so gullible as to fall victim to a harmless game I’ve played many-a-time,

This time I played along, too hard, and much too optimistically.

Reviews

Stunning. It shed some light on the childhoods we think so innocent. As if they still exist. It was an awesome 'say if it doesn't have an equally as awesome title. But titles are overrated.