Harshly broken!
Painfully smashed!
Cruelly scarred!
An excruciating scathing
Once a blooming flower
Now withered
Her innocence
Corrupted by the red-eyed monster
She screamed
But her voice was not as loud as whispers
She cried
But the walls won't listen
The curtains failed
In their duty to comfort her
The doors refused
To fight for her
No agony
Like being empty
No pain
Like shouting but not being heard
She tried,
really really hard
But they just won't go away
Haunting her being
Slowly, finally
She crumbled
And the last of her crusts
Was swept away by the wind
Had they known
The curtains would have moved
The doors would have been stronger
And the walls would have listened
She would have been justified
The red-eyed monster
Would be destroyed
She knew
She would be rebirthed as a thorn.
Phew.
There goes my first poem.
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Quick question: Who knows the theme of this poem?
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Withered
PoetryA collection of poems about the ills and seemingly abnormalities of the world we live in. What does life entail? The dark side of the world that pierces mankind. Third place in the official awards
