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I am made of porcelain
A smiles painted on my hollow frame.
Looked upon and left again
Feeling lonely and ashamed.
Just because my smiles shallow,
I am left without a care.
Left to worry and to wallow
In my sorrow and despair.
What is it like to have a life?
To live in a happy, loving state.
All I have ever known is strife
As I fight against my fate.
I hate the thought of being controlled
Like a puppet bound by his strings.
I just wish to be paroled
Free from all these wretched things.
I want my words to leave a trace,
So others may someday know my pain.
But there’s a fact I refuse to face,
That I am made of porcelain.
Comments (2 Comments)
- Mimsy999 - 07/22/2010
- thats beautiful...i wrote a poem about a porcelain doll.yours is WAY better though. clap clap clap clap
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