A poem about child abuse.
A white lace dress-
tattered,
torn.
Saddle shoes so
faded,
worn.
A child's eyes-
how they
mourn
for love not met.
Know just
scorn.
Every curse they've
ever
said
weighs down her soul;
verbal
lead.
Innocent she's
born, then
bred.
Six years old with
no soul.
DEAD.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
But above all,
ReplyDeleteI love your topics.
They touch
modern souls.