I Write Poetry

Fragile Little Thing

A young girl in a field of dreams
Bubbles all around
So crystal clear, pristine, precise
Perfection falling down

She reaches out to try to save
These lovely little spheres
Her hand's too dry, reckless, untamed
She turns them all to tears

One day she grew up and found
The bubbles now a blur
That broken love, naive, ashamed
Forever stayed with her