thesocialpoet

Dollhouse

In Poetry on March 25, 2013 at 4:12 pm

Lover’s launch words

assembled

from grim metal shards

souvenirs from yesterdays war.

Unlocked pent-up virgins

scream for quiet

they want everything to be red:

the sky the dirt tomorrow and

yesterday.

The broken child has a doll

she too is broken…

kept in glass but never mourned

allowed to speak so long as there is

no weeping.

 

Frank J. Hopkins, USA

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