Plastic Bubble Land

Fairy girl lit her fairy wand
And sailed through plastic bubble land
Rigid girl full of sweet sunshine
Fluttered through, while her rigidness made benign

Closed she was, inter mingled with subtle disdain
For she never bothered to hear a word
To her, she was all and so was he
She was the sea, the book, the bird

Bubbling over, blinding joy unconstrained
A plastic kind of smile
Unknown to her then.
A mirage it was, she gladly swam in it.
Till all the water dried up.

All rigidness lost, head held high
Learning to fly down a lonely road.
Joy contained, dreams contained
Perhaps to be opened for another day

Life went on, in a shade less pink
Life lived almost for the other's sake
Money was spent for her pretty pink dress
She grew to trust it less and less

Pandora's box, was waiting to break free
Shaking with lust and lies and hypocrisy
Charmed was she by the choice of fate
Of love which wailed with misery
Of a broken promise of a trusted friend
Of cold winds and hollow faces and images snatched from plastic bubble land
Of scattered music notes flying away in the wind.

So, fairy girl lost her pretty pink dress
Lost her cold calculated rigidness
Lost her zest for all things pink and pretty
Lonely was she, too tired to be.
But, this was just the beginning.

Unknown to her, nothing was lost
For what was lost was gain, and nothing else
For with the loss of self, she grew strong
Until there was little left of the pain

Fairy girl saw life less scary
Fairy girl saw hope blossom like a new sunrise
She laughed and loved and felt deep joy
The kind that came un-tainted with what people brought

Much she thought about her old plastic bubble land
Which she felt to hold on like a treasure, dear
But with serenity she let go
Because over time and change, she felt no fear.

The river goes on like an endless train
Of endless people, faces and memories bold
Happiness unbridled, crippling sorrow followed by bittersweet calm
All turned into one at the end of life's day.

This is the story of the fairy girl and her old, worn wand
In her precious, plastic bubble land.