LeahA Poem by LittleBearShe is envy. A perfect doll, long misplaced. She was made with a delicate touch; Thin porcelain. Gorgeous, But so easy to break . . . I know. Children found her and tore her hair Ripped her clothes and cracked her chest .
. . . gentle touches . . . Covered her with what was closest to home Washed her matted, spiked hair .
. . . sitting in that warmth, She is dressed too unfit, but matching, It's somehow doll-like. Her hair - though short - has softened, Flowing in small caramel waves. The paint on her face is unchipped - faded - beautiful, But the cracks in her heart may never go away; Even so, she is a doll - princess - and can know in his arms. Pulling my teary-eyed face away from the window, I have drowned in presumption about it all. Sinking deeper, I wonder: 'Is she their image?' Seeing him hold her, seeing him smiling with them . . . My eyes take focus on my reflection. I see my full feminine features. Different. TRAPPED IN THIS GLASS ! . . A caring - searching - glance over his shoulder (over his wings) across the sea of broken faces . . . For me, or for her? Does - will - can - he see ME? Sitting on their shelf, I wait . . . A "perfect" doll, long misplaced.
© 2016 LittleBearAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on August 4, 2016 Last Updated on August 4, 2016 AuthorLittleBearConnersville, INAboutSalutations! c: I don't want to say too much about myself, for I have the hope that my writing will enlighten you. I am not by any means calling myself a poet but I love poetry. If you notice some pa.. more..Writing
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