Keys

The children remember

The girl with her dresses

She was mad, she was sad

She had lovely blue tresses

She hummed and she mumped

She danced her life and throttled

She played and she paid

For the years she packed and bottled

A smile and a laugh

A doll on her behalf

At a tea party, a pink set

A little spoon to pay the debt

A painting for a door

She traded her smile

Oblivious to the core

Intelligent for a while

Pale in the essence, a shred of luminescence

A girl of no one and no one to be

Swallowing the greed, attempting to feed

In the corner nestled and peeking to see

A head and a hand

She cut to sew together

To a sack of filthy sand

To a cruel brown feather

Keys is her name, much to her fame

Locked in a room, enslaved in a game

Excelling and dwelling reliving the scream

Carved in the glass, nailed to the frame

She is the lass of ember

The memory contender

The rain of December

The children remember

Epitaph

I thought if I laid here I could smile
I thought my soul could hear me and smile
But it did no more than stare into distance
And glance at me once in a while

It was painful to believe and worse to disbelieve
It was shameful to shed tears in shivers every eve
I had lost myself my inspiration
My own pen and paper had grown in bitterness
And hurriedly signed my condemnation

The ring in my finger was covered in rust
Tinting my spirit with the colour of copper
I believed being wise is my state of being
But being old was not the same
I was merely a shelf, a forgotten book eaten by dust

I thought if I laid here I could forget
All the pains of a universe to whom I was in debt
But I could not set free my mind
With a wooden cage intertwined

If only I could die for a moment and be reborn
If only I could hold my heart in pieces torn
If only I could lay here and put my hell at peace
Leave behind what I've loved what I've hated
Engrave on my life an epitaph and burry my corpse
Somewhere my soul can kneel down to cry over my tombstone
And mourn