A summer has more colours than just pink,
I have kaleidoscopes of memories,
And still it's pink of which it makes me think,
My memories are pink tinted flurries;
I can envision summers past with ease,
When little pink perfume bottle I see,
And pink aromas waft along the breeze,
I dream that in a pink cloud's where I'll be,
Where pink fragrance from pink flowers I'll drink,
And pink thoughts about pink is all I'll think.
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