Her whole world appears golden, rosy
Among honeyed cats' eyes and petal-colored gowns.
Leaning against her companion in magic,
Now merely a rest for a head, her
Eyes voice melancholy like twin sighs,
Looking past enchanted reality to dreamed normality:
Pencils for wands, wine for potions.
A fairytale forest grows thick outside her window
Between her and blue jeans and jelly beans,
Protecting her from all except daydreams.
Life far from rosy, far from golden,