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A blue eyed girl,
A light pink dress,
And a smile I will miss,
She left with a sigh,
and a silent cry,
we can’t deny,
Her heart was broken,
her emotions gone,
her love taken,
and there she sits,
so perfectly,
no longer smiling,
I should have known,
when her smile faded,
I thought she was leaving,
She found a release,
a careless cry,
only something she would try,
In her room, she wrote a song,
it wasn’t very long,
and yet she was wrong,
it told of a loveless girl,
lost in a fairy-tale,
stuck in a mindless world
her hair was long,
and flowed like her song,
it was called ‘where I belong’
there she was, writing,
talking and reciting,
A poem she heard,
not another word,
and then she was done,
she looked at me,
then at her paper,
then to her desk and drawer,
she said, ‘No more sore.’
and she opened that only drawer,
she said again, ‘No More.’
then I heard her sigh,
a silent scream,
like lost in a dream,
she fell hard,
red soaking,
her white leotard
i looked in longing,
to her body,
wondering what she saw,
what flashed before,
what made her pause,
what was the dusty cause?
for what reason I don’t know,
when she died while it snowed
on her white leotard,
lays the crimson pool,
she said, ‘a pretty face is a tool.’
I told her ‘that’s pretty cruel,’
she said, ‘then what am I?’
her blade fell then
she looked at me,
and I looked back at her,
in the cracked mirror.
- by She Is Novacaine |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 09/09/2009 |
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