The Written Word

Broken

She stands in front of the mirror

Evaluating herself

They say everyone is beautiful,

Why is she an exception then?

 

 Her eyes have turned as dark as charcoal,

With no emotions at all

Lips puffed up with smoke, 

With cigarettes that now burn the walls.

 

Her clothes are on the ground,

Exposing a shapeless body

Cuts on every inch of her,

Her life is no rhapsody.

 

Pieces of broken glass-

From bottles of alcohol

Demonstrate her broken soul.

  

She was not the one to drink or smoke,

What happened to that now?

 

 The memory is vague,

She was a marvellous kid,

Singing and dancing in joy at all times

Careless of what lay ahead.

Live-in-the-moment person,

Said there was no tomorrow;

It is all today, stop drowning in sorrow.

 

 Then came along that time,

She was just herself

But everyone tried to mend her,

Shape her, control her-

Cage a sovereign bird

Annihilate her originality in the process.

Manufactured her just like all the other robot humans

And sent in the the delusional free-world.

 

 The left of her was taken away too,

This world is not merciful!

What remained after it all, was just a woebegone body

With cuts and wounds on the out;

Liquor and nicotine inside.

Demolished soul and worthless body-

This is the life of a broken girl,

This is the story of me.

 

 

Author's Note

This is not my life story! But mind you, it sure is my poem. Any kind of plagiarism will be strictly dealt with.

Hope you all like it.