Little Girl

Schizo. All I have to say.

Twirling around

That little white dress

She hangs right by the periphial

You see her yet you don't.

 

Her posture so depressed

Voice lacking of life

Black hair is a mess

She's just a kid

 

She tells you stuff

You swear you don't hear

It's just an illusion

"Don't hurt her again"

 

You feel you're insane

Every time that you look

You don't see her face

It's not an open book

 

No companion to her

She's all alone

A little girl in a white dress

Bearing a message of death

Reviews

[J Todd Underhill]

After reading your poem and profile, I have to say I liked this, Poetry isn't always fluffy bunnies and rainbow ponies. There is a darker side of life that needs to be logged. Just like Rock and Roll not being pretty, Poetry is it's twisted step brother who also can get pretty ugly at times. You have again captured my attention with this write, and I shall be returning soon!