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: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments2
Yes why indeed.
It's all conformity, got to stay in your box and not rock the boat.
Definitely don't mention the red ribbon, this will get you thrown out the pure house for sure.
We all ask why we are not like others. Why I don't have musical talent, good at math, a great athlete, beautiful as a model, popular. So little we understand. A wonderful write
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.