The Broken Child
WHILE MY EYES ARE SHUT,MY HEART IS UNBOUND,PURE KNOWLEDGE IS DEVELOPING,AS I WALK TO THE SHORES OF GHOSTLY REGRETS I FIND MY FAITH IS QUESTIONING THE SONG OF ANOTHER SPIRIT.
AS I SIT HERE AND KNEEL IN FALSE CHARM, THE NIGHT ONCE AGAIN REMEMBERS HER STORY......
WHEN I WAS A CHILD I HELD ON TO A STRING, IT WAS AS LONG AS AN ANGELS WINGS,ATTATCHED TO THAT WAS A LITTLE GIRL WHOSE DREAMS WERE SPLINTERED AND BROKEN,
SHE GREW UP ON DEBRIS OF SHATTERED LOVE AND DELICATE DEATHS,MANY SILENT NIGHTS SHE EMBRACED AN UNSEEN UNIVERSE,THAT RETURNED EACH SPRING WITH BLOOMING PAIN AND SUFFERING.
HER ACTIONS UNTIED MANY SECRETS AND SHE KNEW SOON SHE WAS NOT TO BE.
HER INNOCENT TEARS WERE NO MORE SACRED,
FREQUENT DISCOMFORTS WERE ABSORBED,WHY WAS ASSUALT A SUBSTITUTE FOR A MOTHERS AFFECTION ?
TIRED AND NUMB SHE ANSWERED FOR THE HATRED FOR ALL INDIVIDUALS,PRAYERS CANT SAVE WHEN TORTURE IS A CONVIENIENCE,
THESE MEMORIES ARE THE PRISON OF A BROKEN CHILD.
Copyright © Danea Scates | Year Posted 2015
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