Changeling.
They took her at birth.
Hid her away,
In a place where the world
Is cruel, unkind, harsh,
and bitter.
They put needles through
her skin.
Tugged at her hair,
Pinched her in her sleep.
The sun never shone
and the words to every song
Were sung like shards of
broken glass.
Little-drug spindles spun in her eyes,
Canvases painted nothing but lies,
Voices spoke but nothing was heard.
She was lost.
Years passed, as they continue to do
Until one day she broke.
Thousands of tiny changeling pieces
Littering the floor.
Someone found them,
And he put them in his pocket as
he walked out of the land of death
and shadows,
And pieced her back
together.
Adding your comment: