My sister made
A little rainbow out of clay,
It sits on my desk;
I look at it every day
Though its colours did fade.
It reminds
Me,
It’s just a matter of time
Before I’ll be able to see
The dust, the grey on everyone’s
Face, as if they’ve misplaced
Their joy and fun.
Still, I’ll wish that my
Rainbow will look Age in the eye,
And just have a good laugh.
My colours will stand
Through every wash, by machine or hand.
Air
Won’t be whitening my hair.