Blue ribbons, they are mighty, fighting for what is right.
The green ribbons, full of elegance and poise, no mistakes ever made.
The red ribbons, for those confident and haughty, with a will to battle forever.
Now there she was, sat with her orange ribbons,
sat on the grassy ground, yearning for the ones who left.
Alone she and few others were spared, of grief and despair.
The beautiful ribbons burned down, green, blue, no matter even if gray.
She had no answer to the colour, why must it be this colour?
Why not green, like her teachers.
Why not blue, like her rivals.
Why not red, like her lovers.
It was all a mystery to her, the girl in orange ribbons.
-
Author:
atticus_made (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 16th, 2026 03:11
- Comment from author about the poem: It just came to my mind. It is, like most of my poems, centered around a character or figure that already exists. This time my favourite character from a novel who gets an open ending.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 1

Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.