Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Recommended Posts

Posted

:butterfly::butterfly:

 

Through vacant eyes she stares at me

No hope to speak of present

Pale skin stretches over delicate bone

Little girl lost in the system

From house to house They place her

Not one of them a home

Not one group of people there

Dare she call a family

Crumpled heart drawn in with crayon

Dark browns and ugly yellows

Little girl lost

Knows the game

The people she lives with

Will soon grow tired of her

And call Them to retrieve her

She clutches her small, sad suitcase

Against her one-last-breath-of-

Maybe-they'll-change-their-minds constrained chest

 

Through vacant eyes she stares ahead

No hope to speak of present

Little girl lost stumbles forth once more

In her ever pressing need of acceptence

Little girl lost

Little girl lost

Little girl dead

Little girl died long ago

Little girl died and lived through vacant eyes

Little girl without hope

Posted

What a trully sad and depressing poem you have there Mrs. Butterfly.. But I do say, thru the darkness shines the beautifullness [ I know its not a word.. I think ] of hte poem and its writing itself. Very well done.. I might just run off and read a few more of yours. :)

×
×
  • Create New...