MY PINK PLASTIC SAVIOUR

Protection against new faces,
Safeguard against scary sounds,
Reaching up to tug my necklace,
My one pink plastic saviour.

Whiffing baby powder and paste,
Cautious of juice stains on white,
Lucky I have my necklace,
My heart-and-flower saviour.

High-pitched shrieks of laughter
Pierced through gentle reprimanding
Of darting pre-school teachers,
Failing to calm wailing monsters.

I tug; they scream; I tug; they scream,
Then the loudest noise of all,
A pop resounds in eardrums,
Shower of blood-red beads on white.

My vision blurs; my stance a wobble,
Lost my friend, my pink plastic saviour,
But then a small hand grasps my own
And I've got a new short, blonde saviour.