She sits alone
On her windowsill
Of would be and has beens
Counting the days away
With straight lines and criss-crosses
She's made herself a pretty doll
Of shreds of her own falling out hair
Watching as princesses wait for their
So-called Knights in Shining Armor "Punks"
And Knights in Shining Armor
Find their so-called princesses
Are whores
And the days treat her like they always do
A note in a journal for the tomorrows to be
Maybe one day, she'll see her love's eyes, again
Maybe one day, she'll have a son to call her
But tomorrow never comes
For the fairest of them all
With gray hair and pure eyes
And a heart waiting to love
Author notes
I had a spree of "dark writes", now I'm trying to do a little something more... real. I know it isn't me and I'm not trying to make it me, so have at.
A contest entry
- Make this THE largest Contest EVER on AP [enter, enter, enter!] by Symphony.
18000 points, ended April 28, 2009, 981 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Sacrifice your Critiques unto me:
Comments
-
The ending was heartbreaking - I wasn't expecting the 'gray hair' description, but having waited all her life ... it's to be expected -
such an un-fairytale like ending, i loved it
thanks for entering -
I liked it. . . maybe you would know why...
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