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Toys
Broken doll in the corner
Shadows roam this earth
Do what you have to do
crying on the arm of the
one who dies for you
You are to blame
for this war
Childhood left behind under the bed
in a drawer locked in a journal
hidden away guilt lies there
Behind the door lurks the heart of what you
used to be A mirror shatters at your
shriek and your wails reflection held by
the killer of the child inside
Love him again for he holds you closley
Will he watch over you
or watch you die?
You are nothing to him but a tired ragdoll


Tempest Diana Moonshadow

Copyright ©2005 Tempest Diana Moonshadow
©2005-2009 ~LittleSorceress
:iconlittlesorceress:

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Toys


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:iconempty-paper-stock:
I really like this poem... Some childhood memories can haunt you like this...

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:iconlittlesorceress:
Thank you for reading it. I am glad that you like the poem and thank u for letting me use the stock.

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"It moves us not. -Great God! I'd rather be a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;" - William Wordsworth
:iconlittlesorceress:
ty for the fave too

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"It moves us not. -Great God! I'd rather be a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;" - William Wordsworth
:iconempty-paper-stock:
You're welcome ^_^

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August 13, 2005
823 bytes
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