This poem is for that one person who, rain or shine, always told me when I ought to be wearing a hat- Obviously, she was always right, but I didn't listen to her, and, as this poem shows...
The Music Festival
(Forever 16)
All of the sun's heat
Encircled my body.
I collapsed.
Music pounded
My brain fizzled.
The coat that my body
Defends itself in
Burned.
Charred summer grass-
My own magic carpet.
A man grabbed my arm-
I could feel the force.
I was the colour
of dawn, on a stormy day-
The straps of my dress
Stabbed
At my roasted collar.
Roller coaster.
The man must have pulled me up,
-Up, up-
Onto stretched material on
Wheels.
I craved
Soft, juicy fruit
Through the channels
Of my throat.
At that moment in time,
On the very day
That
I turned Sixteen
(Teenage Dream)
I really wished
I'd worn a hat.
The Music Festival
(Forever 16)
All of the sun's heat
Encircled my body.
I collapsed.
Music pounded
My brain fizzled.
The coat that my body
Defends itself in
Burned.
Charred summer grass-
My own magic carpet.
A man grabbed my arm-
I could feel the force.
I was the colour
of dawn, on a stormy day-
The straps of my dress
Stabbed
At my roasted collar.
Roller coaster.
The man must have pulled me up,
-Up, up-
Onto stretched material on
Wheels.
I craved
Soft, juicy fruit
Through the channels
Of my throat.
At that moment in time,
On the very day
That
I turned Sixteen
(Teenage Dream)
I really wished
I'd worn a hat.
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