Captured and imprisoned.
Two crusts a day: one of bread, the other off cheese.
The cheese is best; its mould might heal me.
The bread is rye, its mould might freak me.
Taken at the start of the war…
In the wrong place at the wrong time and wearing the wrong colours.
Green, one shouldn’t wear green.
The fractious fairies’ colour.
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #54