Bare thighs dance playfully in the lemon light,
Birds swim in cooling ponds of greenish hue.
Blue of her eyes reflects vastly upon the sky,
Binding these reflections comes only with words of summer.
I stare beyond my grotty book,
Observant in my own ways of details unnoticed.
In the bed of red plush poppies,
She runs carelessly, hopelessly, despairingly.
She stared into the looking glass,
Pure beauty shone alive and bright before her.
Lost in depths dark and hopeless,
Eternally condemned to despise the impeccable illusion.
Will the just and right enlighten her,
Worldly and wise she could become.
Weary and insecure of her looks,
Wandering the plains of resistance for eternity.