Porcelain

Big glass eyes convey, but yet not a single tear thou shall stray, despite its wallowed thoughts of melancholy. You would think or expect, for such a beauty to prospect, adoration from all and from many. But why should such a beauty sit all alone, to wallow in thoughts of melancholy?

Thou once had great courtesy, yet it sits alone in dismay, doth seeking the attention thy once portrayed. The adoration, amiss, for the sweet miss, its perfect curls surrounding its vacuous face like a circlet. If only, if only, the amity once showed to thy miss, could still be faired in such ways and such care.

The royal satin of the dress thou hath worn, hath became sooty, ragged, forgotten, and torn. What a waste, what a waste, ye shall think, but this splendor is thy one who has wasted thy time, for doth be a mere fink, yet silent like thou mime.

But what thoughts, what thoughts, thy shall carry, throughout the long hours alone. For, any such thought could bring such a suicide, but the porcelain doll rests silent and still as stone.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A piercing and explosive worded ohrase that lends itself to the prefection of the classics, well done, good read.

[SwagMaster]

I. LOVED. IT. More, please!!

Please mark this constructive and review me back!