Confetti rain

He never managed to find

Himself despite searching

In the eyes of a thousand women

Like those hand-in-hand

Paper cut-outs Dolls.

He brought them all perfume

And wild roses wrapped up

In coloured paper

But still he was lost.

He would take them dancing

Swirling them around until

Midnight exploring their every

Twist and twirl always

Searching their fair faces

For the One.

He had a child in almost every

Town with too many of these Dolls-

Too many names to remember

But he never did find him-

Self.

They’ll be no more lifting of skirts

Or moonlight walks home

In that confetti rain

His searching has to be over

And he finds himself still

Very much

Alone.