Bubble

A million bubbles drifting in the breeze, floating and

swaying, as beautiful and unique as many wonderful dreams.

The invisible rainbow, with all colours shining, just blow a few bubbles,

something that’ll stop any whining. Perfectly symmetrical, absolutely

pure, nothing can make them defective, so says the law, of a

generation if children. Crisp on the air, clear on the eye, when they

burst, that purity dissolves, it’s no wonder we all cry why?!

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