The Cost of Brightness

A flash of pink hair in a sea of the same,

it wasn’t just color, it was playing a game.

I craved their reactions, the thrill and the fame,

where laughter once bloomed, now ashes of shame.

A picture appeared, the world wide awake,

dared to stand out, for attention's sweet sake.

But colors do fade, as memories quake,

now shadows grow longer, and truth starts to ache.

Was it worth it, this journey to be,

when standing out once felt like being free?

Yet now, I look back, with ghosts chasing me,

at a photo that lingers, a faded decree.