Tattered Angel

Colors connect
When you venture back to reflect.
Hearts break . .  when she smiles. .
Tears, a silent stream
Imperfection on an otherwise perfect canvas.
Dreams, laughter in a deserted field.
Outward . . A cool vision in silk
Inward . . . A tormented child . . .
Waiting to be freed . . . .

Do you hold my key?
Her first, last and only words to me.
A single moment . .  a single grain of sand . .
The ever emptying hourglass.

Guardians find sadness to be insanity . . . . . . . . . . . .

Swaddle me tight
Block out my words
Blot out the sun, with this coffin
Sanctuary . . . . A cruel lie.

Tied in a satin bow, put on display.
Smile . .  simper . . And compliment.
Rules of existence . .

Play my part . . . don’t slip
While walking that fine . . . .

A sad little existence
For that little confection.
Not a story you want to recollect.

A story that ends in satin bows . .
A perfect canvas . . . with one imperfection . .
Silk wrapped neck . .  Twisted at the wrong angle
While satin bowed slippers dangle by precious little toes.
A warped reflection . . .
When beauty is shattered.
A tattered angel . . .

By: Tasha Gwartney
August 20, 2011

Posted in Poetry
3 comments on “Tattered Angel
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