Rainbow danced across my face
as water nestled into my skin.
I wasn't the only screechingly happy child
that day.

It was a festival celebrating art.

But that's not why people came.
Cheap liquor
and a small band singing the blues,
that's what really drew the people in.

But I was young.
And I was drunk on rainbows and sprinklers;
far too juvenile to see the sadness.

People stumbled around me
it was early.

No one saw the art.

No one saw the beauty but the little children
playing in the sprinklers.
Too drunk on rainbows to know the difference.