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 Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 12:34 pm
She was a doll
Eight years of age.
She far surpassed beauty
Glory
And congeniality.
Gracefully
She would dance across the linoleum floors at night.
Slowly
She knew it not
She danced to her demise.
She was an innocent child.
Her parents consumed with their work
Stopped paying heed
To their living porcelain treasure.
To her it mattered not
Anyway
So young and profound she was
Caught up in a world of colours and sights.
He coveted her purity
And would kill a thousand swans
To make her as filthy as the world
That has engrossed him.
In the night she spoke so softly
To the only friend she knew.
A toy bear
Older than she
Who had not a name.
She told of the sin she's done.
Not knowing that his deeds
Were not hers.
She was a doll
Eight years of age.
She far surpassed beauty
Glory
And congeniality.
It's such a sad thing
That he broke her
And for years
No one has seen her.
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 11:48 pm
Jess, your poems rock! I love the imagery in it and the metaphors/similies/whatever you call them...
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Posted: Fri Apr 06, 2007 5:10 pm
OH DEAR GOD, PLEASE SOMEONE COMMENT!!!
Thank you.
heart
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Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 9:19 pm
Indeed it is very good. The imagery is quite excellent. *applauds*
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