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You are a porcelain doll
sitting upon your shelf
Alone for the ages
with your perfect blonde hair
and empty blue eyes
I see what the others cannot
Your skin is made of bone,
Your hair plucked from the scalp of a martyr,
Your lips painted with blood
You see what the others cannot,
The pain of the world from your unbiased view
You know that we are fools
And you long to reach out, but you cannot
From your shelf up so high
The only thing you’ve ever known to be your own
was your own maker
You were made from all the forlorn things
The lovelorn do not impress you
And you know to be forgotten is a choice
The confused are not as confused as they appear to be
Everyone knows how they are feeling,
They just choose to live as bigots
Ignorant to their blessings
You are intrigued with only the things you do not understand and never will
For you cannot ever leave your shelf
Forever to decay.
 Turts · Sat Mar 24, 2012 @ 07:34am · 0 Comments |
