Blood orange

We sat and watched. My feet where dangling from the edge. I could see the water flowing beneath me. I held on tight to my camera. The wind blew soft and the sun was setting. I could hear street musicians and construction workers. I saw tourists slowly crossing the bridge. I could see couples and families and individuals, – and they all seemed so precious. The sky turned to a darker orange and contrasted with the silhouette of the nearby bridge. I focussed my camera which resulted in a two-toned picture. The orange of the sky so still and black of the street lanterns and people. People we did not knew, and we never will. I showed it to my mother, and she said that it was a nice picture, she said that ‘paris was such a peaceful city’


    – I never wanted you to feel like this. Are you alright ?

Yes, she smiled every single day
And her blonde curls made it look like she was happy

But I never realized that she had her struggles as well
She confessed to me that she did not feel
As pretty, and as cute as other girls

And it broke my heart knowing that she felt like this
I used to feel like I was never good enough
But it is completely useless

To compare yourself to others is a social crime
Don’t be a victim and don’t put yourself down
We were raised as individuals and we all have beauty

We are so used to how we look and how we are
She forgot how talented she was and that her blue eyes
Remind me of the warm summers spend in France

Don’t you dare to feel like that again
You are worth so much more

    – Yes I’m quite alright. I guess