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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required She seemed to be like a portrait... which had fallen from its gilded frame Abandoned... Lying face down on the empty, cold wintry floor. An elegantly created portrait once painted in striking hues of indigo blue. Her eyes told a story of bittersweet, magenta colored sorrows That etched themselves throughout the frail, intricately woven canvas of her soul Over time... Thoughtless hands subtly contrived and manipulated the beauty of her painted portrait Into a resemblance - likened to that of a cold chiseled statue Calloused, careless fingers molded her - lancinating the fragile fragments of her spirit Leaving her heart with the etoliated, worn material - called her life She dreamed of Icarus - soaring down on steel wings Shrouded in cobalt, magenta clouds- with outstretched, feathery fingers... Lifting her up to dance with him in a Stravinsky ballet... As it is was meant to be Not how it was She was a beautiful, delicate butterfly... Bruised by many shadows in her world Leaving her unable to fly away from its thirsting arid rain filled skies It left her struggling to stay afloat in the spring's melting snow Life had bruised her tender skin... Gnawing away like insatiable insects on her delicate pink frescoed soul Leaving her feeling like a fabricated, plastic manikin on display... For all to pose her as they selfishly may Muddied soil was the blood that coursed through her veins Holding her tethered heart in fleshy, lumpy mounds of dark, chocolate brown earth It held her helplessly clogged in the dirt... That descended down in the empty spaces of her soul... Like the muddied strings of yellow, tattered maize That entwined their ragged tassels through her life flowing veins... Choking off the blood she needed to nourish her weakened, hungry heart Mighty winds toppled her willowy, limber tree... Snapping the delicate boughs of her arms As it pulled at the fleshy bark of her skin She stood cold and alone in the cold wintry night... Wrapped only in her naked flesh - with open, bleeding indigo wounds Standing under the icy, mist of the cold, winter moon... Her heart and soul painfully revealed - in shades of indigo blue LadeeAnne~C@2011 Anne P Murray
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