elle-crimsontears

The delicate porcelain doll Sweetly and still she sits. Day by day, upon her shelf Watching life pass her by. White face and emotion the same as always Each day begins anew But for the delicate porcelain doll, Its the same as any other day. Her heart yearns for change; it aches. She wishes she could let her tears roll. Yet she is a delicate porcelain doll. Supposedly devoid of emotion. So her poise and serenity is kept. So fragile, so small, so easily breakable, she sits upon her shelf Looking at the outside world. A world so far away. A world she isn't destined to be part of. And so upon her shelf, the delicate porcelain

Dirty tear stained face Grubby clothes. Filthy little child. No home, no family, no money. Alone in the streets. Tiny hands outstretched Towards cars passing by. Filthy little child. No hopes, aspirations, dreams. Griefstricken, alone, unloved. Pain, hunger and suffering. Disease ridden Flea infested Filthy little child Your days are few

A lone tree, in a forgotten field. Once luscious leaves; now withered and gone. Bare branches outstretched skywards. Where once was fullness and life Is now barren and dead. the comfort of shade; dried up. The gentle rustle of leaves; stilled. Roots embedded in the soil of generations Bark weathered by seasons come and gone. An age which defied all As the whisper of freedom, blows a gentle breeze Through the lone tree's bare branches

A silent tear, a desperate plea I cry out for help, but no one can hear me I'm there but of no importance My hand is outstretched, but I'm left in darkness. So I try to be strong I smile and listen to my inner mantra: ''Let no one see my tears'' Yet inside I'm breaking, falling apart. I wish someone would pull me out, Of the icy depths I'm so deeply immersed in. I wish someone would hear my silent plea....