Colours held up by a string,
Hiding the grey in the world.
Colours that create your own little paradise,
Sheltering you from the war Flowers bloom,wind blows,clouds float on by,
Warm air and sunlight shine down like a spot light.
The lies fly on by,
Trying to bring back the happiness from the past,
But the war comes too fast,
The most you can do is hide in your paradise
And grip onto it like a vice.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.