Monday 5 March 2012

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

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