Young Writers Society

plastic nostalgia, it's a world where it's only
pink, blue or yellow - there's no black.
glow-in-the-dark singlets and stripes on shoes.
chunky clumps of happiness amidst every perfect colour -
this barrier blocks all darkness, black tears, evil bars.

only candyfloss, castles and carousels.
i believe in the utter purity of magenta
ribbons, blonde curls and tiny teeth.
it's halloween but laughs dart around
the electric orange of pumpkin heads, laughs of
chocolate and pistachio icecreams in your hand,
melting sugar trails down your wrist.
bangingly thrilling rides leave your head
drummed into a glucose headache.

the sun sprinkles down in dense caramel rays.
and outside the thick colours of different splotchy parts,
time racks on, clearing its throat like i do,
my cough crackly and static like a dying clock.
written: Monday 4th October 2004, 11:00pm.

Is this about small little girls or dolls or something? If so, the concept is great because you don't often see poems on that subject. Even if it wasn't, it made me think about all my old dolls who are all tied up in the attic now.

Thanks for the comment.
It's not specifically about dolls, but you're definitely getting the right idea. I wrote this after going to Disneyland Paris and it's just about the loss of childhood and missing it so much. So it's great that you can get something personal out of it, something you miss about your own childhood. That's the general idea.