"She peered above in the sightings, for what was the fear.
The only thing left were the hazardous lighting's, but why would they care.
Layers of masks piled down below,for they did not seem to notice, how could they if a smile was all they know.
A tearful stained eye replace with a surface, tender raw skin lies jagged unprofessionally, but they couldn't have realised if she glided so flawlessly.
She claws at her face, renewing a false mask, but it wasn't their fault but her case.
Why? Wasn't she fulfilling a task, thrown food wasted, hunger grinding on to her bones, couldn't it just have been tested, for it wasn't for their tones.
Names spurred unwisely, oh, they hadn't no stare, she shan't have stayed there willingly, but she was left there uncleanly and bare.
Bones,cuts and linings no flesh bargained, the folds just expanded through the tear.
For it sounded so deranged, enough clouded her being, an entity in exchange.
They did not want what they were seeing, only the blood on the page, swung back and forth, bruise appearing.
The mask truly fading, now they are hearing, when her life was slowly slipping soon shading.
The water spilled above the tub, sobbing filling the eerie silence, moistened the dry rug.
For nothing better was her personality as defiance, she couldn't have used death to clarify the way of science."
YOU ARE READING
Shattered
Poetry"She held on to the thorn knowing it would prick her, and grabbed on to it's roots knowing she would fall, but the hope that flickered in her eyes always seem to shimmer, nothing demolished it at all, she carved her art on the canvas and set the li...
