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Love is a china doll
It is fragile
One false move, and it is shattered
with shards, sharp and jutting, embedded into skin
Slowly, slowly bleed.
Love is a china doll
Guarded, placed upon the highest shelf
A prize to show off, a trophy to
flaunt in front of those who have lost
Pretty to the eye, cold to the touch.
Love is a china doll
Beauty in the eyes of a child
Hungry for lace and trimming and
a secret glade in which to play
Sparkle fades, but pure white skin
hugged against a longing chest,
Is Precious. Porcelain.
Comments (1 Comments)
- Casca 7 - 07/16/2008
- that's really sad. i hope you really don't see life so cold and distant as your poem makes it seem. but though i don't agree with you, i must say you write well so i'll give you a good score.
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