TigerLily
May 9th, 2009, 04:47 AM
So this is a poem I stumbled across in an old notebook, written a while back ago. I'm not sure if I like it or not yet, but it sorta has a personal meaning to me. So anyways, feel free to comment but dont be too evil (jks), I'm no poet :P
Porcelain Scars
Baby don’t cry…
As the salty rivers pour down her cheek, one after another in silent succession
Alone, in the dark, each tear another piece of her poor heart breaking
Baby don’t be scared…
As every part of her fragile, fragmented soul wants to run away, to somewhere but nowhere
To somebody…
Yet there is nobody.
No one to hold her little hand
Nor wipe away her tears
Nor tell her everything is going to be ok
Deserted.
Terrified.
Alone.
The crack in the china doll,
Not noticeable from afar, yet it is still
Broken.
Can it be repaired, or will this china doll be cast aside?
A faulty doll, a faulty child…
Too much damage to make it worthwhile for somebody -- anybody -- to take their time
To fix her
Baby be brave…
It won’t always be this way, I promise,
You’re doing amazing sweet pea
Baby be strong…
Though you have the weight of the world on your delicate shoulders; too young, too weak to take the strain,
Yet you can do this I know, only a matter of time
Baby hold on…
Maybe someday you won’t always have to be alone
Somebody to hold your hand.
Someday everything might just really be ok.
But for now, wipe away your own tears
And fight another day
And never, ever give up hope, nor forget the courage you have so much of inside,
Nor the strength beyond your years.
Remember always how much I love you.
This china doll can be restored,
Only the faintest of scars left on the delicate porcelain, I swear…
You will be just fine, I promise you
You can trust me, if no one else.
I look into your familiar blue eyes…
I see your pain,
I recognise your fear,
I know your heartbreak,
Just as I do my own.
And I know your scars and your battle wounds like the back of your hand…
Or should that be the back of my hand?
A shocking resemblance.
One and the same.
Porcelain Scars
Baby don’t cry…
As the salty rivers pour down her cheek, one after another in silent succession
Alone, in the dark, each tear another piece of her poor heart breaking
Baby don’t be scared…
As every part of her fragile, fragmented soul wants to run away, to somewhere but nowhere
To somebody…
Yet there is nobody.
No one to hold her little hand
Nor wipe away her tears
Nor tell her everything is going to be ok
Deserted.
Terrified.
Alone.
The crack in the china doll,
Not noticeable from afar, yet it is still
Broken.
Can it be repaired, or will this china doll be cast aside?
A faulty doll, a faulty child…
Too much damage to make it worthwhile for somebody -- anybody -- to take their time
To fix her
Baby be brave…
It won’t always be this way, I promise,
You’re doing amazing sweet pea
Baby be strong…
Though you have the weight of the world on your delicate shoulders; too young, too weak to take the strain,
Yet you can do this I know, only a matter of time
Baby hold on…
Maybe someday you won’t always have to be alone
Somebody to hold your hand.
Someday everything might just really be ok.
But for now, wipe away your own tears
And fight another day
And never, ever give up hope, nor forget the courage you have so much of inside,
Nor the strength beyond your years.
Remember always how much I love you.
This china doll can be restored,
Only the faintest of scars left on the delicate porcelain, I swear…
You will be just fine, I promise you
You can trust me, if no one else.
I look into your familiar blue eyes…
I see your pain,
I recognise your fear,
I know your heartbreak,
Just as I do my own.
And I know your scars and your battle wounds like the back of your hand…
Or should that be the back of my hand?
A shocking resemblance.
One and the same.