Her heart was a prism in a room lit by darkness,
Her life a smooth shadow of chaos;
She wore a mask of paper maché,
Clippings from everyone’s story but her own
Scattered across her face,
But fragile as a potpourri of lies may be,
The glass umbra of the broken heart it hid
Was so delicate,
Afraid.
But then someone found her,
But then someone cared,
And little by little coaxed her towards the light,
Though hesitant at first, she came,
Let him show her a beam of light,
And it hit the prism of her heart,
And all at once black burst into color.
A contest entry
- Prism by RedAquarius.
450 points, ended April 9, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Where's my stinkin' trophy? by Great Cthulhu.
1500 points, ended April 25, 2008, 47 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Awwww!
I love the Cinderella flavor to this, much darker than anything Disney has ever done! Wonderful write, I thoroughly enjoyed this. A sweet tribute to hope in love. Keep your pen to the page and thanks for entering! -
Two pet peeves of mine - no need to capitalize every line and this is two very long sentences. Maybe reconsider your punctuation a bit.
That said, I enjoyed the imagery of a paper mache mask made of everyone but her and the final line is great!
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I wonder what inspired this???
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you know we don't do happy =)
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