amber is not blonde
or so they say in
jet black and raven
hues of songs sung well past midnight
she use to dance
and dream
until the screams came
parenthood was
not the fairy tale of
mothers always there
unfit to sit and
stomp in competition
she let the win
be borrowed by the others
no splits occur in ends
that are not mean
or so it seems in times of tribulation
she will not drown
in tears unshed
her springs have
burrowed deep
beneath the soil of upper crust
so stark and lovely are
the dreams that almost were
and might have been
tomorrow
no
amber is not blonde
although
it seems she's golden.