purple, yellow bruises
from playing outside
and picking up pebbles
to throw at tomorrow
and chase it away
the sky was never blue
as we never had enough strength
to look up past our little heads
engulfed in the wonders of chalk and road
when secrets were worth flower petals
and flew away with the wind
unlike the ones we hold today
with aching shoulders
and burning pains
from looking up and only up
and witnessing how fast
these colours change
terracotta, navy, to grey
as all these pebbles wash away