I hear the choking sound, turn around I see the boy, the tree, the pink leash, pink, why pink I touch the boy, his skin is ice, Why? he's so cold I feel the fear and tears, do not cry I speak the words, "Michael? Wake up, you're gonna be in trouble!" *he's gone
As a little girl, 6 to be exact, I learned to despise the color pink, especially hot pink.