Avalanche Blanche
She stood on the jetty
Salt water in her eye,
The past said ‘hello’
The future; ‘goodbye’.
Hundreds and thousands,
The colour of snow,
Seeds of bad bullying,
No time could un-sow.
Teased for some dandruff,
Never given a chance,
Named, jibed and called,
Forever, ‘Avalanche Blanche’.
Copyright © Thomas Harrison | Year Posted 2019
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