The evening sky is pink,
But within a blink,
The sun will sink,
It will become the nights drink.
Soon it will become dark
With the edged tree bark
Outside in the park,
That is in itself a mark.
The mark that is stabbed in my back,
With still hurts even in memory sack.
Over which strong control I lack,
It has become the sky that is black.
The childhood of the little girl was pink,
But now it has got the black’s tint
Direction of life course changed ink,
And she was left without any help
Cost of innocence was expensive,
And she was not that defensive.
Yet her resilience was impressive
She has become a lot more decisive
Whatever things fall,
they never stall,
they rise and rise and rise
to clear away the dark skies.
The girl again has found her solace,
Like the morning sun in its place.
With the life and destiny that she deserves,
And passionately vows to cherish and preserve.
The pink will not sustain without black,
Sun has no importance without nights slack.
Innocence should have a suspicious touch,
But it must not be too much.
The sky is pink,
at evening's drink,
as well as the morning's brink,
when the sun expands rather than shrink.
The sun will rise, night will fall,
That is the truth and that is all.
And one advice I must give you my pal,
You can be both Annabelle and barbie doll.
- Niharika Bhatia, Bharati College
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