Among shattered glass,
her dreams are unspoken.
Atop the broken toy her,
dreams are none but broken.
Every tear and tantrum,
won't fix what brought her joy.
Her happiness, she feels,
is just a broken toy.
Screams and shouts at
the bits of glass on the floor.
That maid knew who to blame,
and she smacked the child once more.
Sent away to the top floor,
without food for the night.
Among blue sheets she cried,
hearing her caretakers fight.
Soon again she'd be gone,
to another temporary stay.
But she will make friends,
and she'll ask them to play.
And then they will be her broken toys.
YOU ARE READING
Dreamless Nights.
PoetryA collection of poetry have written over the years, becoming more and more recent.
