• The iGlobe

Blue Hair with a Freckled Fair

by Aman Sirohey

A girl walks by.

I don’t know why.

She says hello,

A little slow.

What kind of stars,

Construct the sky?

None could match her eyes.

Her smile stretches from ear to ear.

The freckles dot her face.

Her confidence is high.

Let it be high.

A few years later, she walks by again.

Doesn’t notice me, like

I’m invisible.

What kind of stars

Construct the sky?

Her eyes could match none.

Her smile disappeared,

No more “ear to ear”.

Freckles still dot her face.

Her confidence is low.

Let it be low.


As time passes by, she’s in college now.

The stress melted away her beautiful smile.

Peer-pressured to dye her hair.

She sits on a bench, way over there.

What kind of stars

Construct the sky?

Her eyes could match none.

Her smile disappeared,

No more “ear to ear”.

Freckles still dot her face.

Little did she know,

I’ve been watching her.

Blue Hair with a Freckled Face.

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