Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Lost her daughter

The problem seems to be that,
You have patched me up relentlessly,
With lies and cheats,
Stitched it with deciecve,
Only to now,
Watch me bleed,
As you're scarring me,
By trying to heal,
The broken wings,
I can not conceal,
I found that there is no flaw,
In being flawed,
The only thing imperfect,
Is imperfection,
So tell me mother,
How come do you need me,
To be smothered,
In order to have room,
For us all to breathe?
Ain't it a little too late,
To be on time,
This minute when all of the wasted hours,
Are slipping through my hands,
Tell me now mother,
Ain't it just a little too much,
To torture me in order to make,
Me strong enough not to break,
Ain't it all just the way,
It should be turned around,
For right now all I see,
Is this bunch,
Waiting for the punch.

Little do her parents know,
They'd lost their daughter years ago.

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