Her Broken Shell
Her shell had cracked deep, deeper then hurt,
Deep from her foot to her crown,
And rambled along leaving cuts of anguish,
That bled all over the ground,
Still she stood like a ship sailing the seas,
She stood with the wind and the rain,
And controlled her reflection upon broken glass,
To dance with all of her pain,
So, from far away, her painting was beauty,
Pristine moving colours of magic,
But as you walked closer and saw her whole truth,
You saw that her truth was a tragic,
Torn from her heart, torn from her flesh,
Her life was all torn from her world,
Behind her beauty of colour and light,
Was a beaten down torn up small girl.
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