She's small; all porcelain skin and rosy cheeks.
Her dollie trails behind her as she holds tight to her arm
while she follows a man walking through the yard.
She trips on the uneven cement.
Blood trickles out of her scraped knee.
And he never looked back as he walked away.
Time tears at her like a desert wind.
It stole the youth from her skin
with no remorse.
She tripped on an unsteady foundation long ago,
And found herself hemorrhaging from reality.
She felt dizzy.
Little girls forget their abandoning fathers
when they trade hopscotch and chalk
for new types of lines and powder.
Trackmarks and sorrow linger for too long.
She clings to her tear-soaked dollie,
As she searches for the forgotten child inside.
A contest entry
- If not now, then when by krystal111.
1000 points, ended November 9, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Well that was wonderful, I mean sad but wondeful. I loved the way you wrote it, it showed so much emotion I felt like I was there.
Great job. And best of luck.
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