June 9, 2009
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Tears fall onto her porcelain hands
Her white frilly dress dirtied by blood.
One shoe has fallen and shattered,
The other cracked.
How many dark moons have come?
How many have gone?
Her dark curls of plastic clings to her wet cheeks.
Her satin bonnet lay behind her in disarray.
She stares out unblinking,
Her sparkling blue eyes are unmoving.
Almost as if she is unreal,
But she sees everything.
A bump and she falls,
Descending into pure darkness
Cascading like a black and white river.
She hits the ground in slow motion
Twisting sharply and landing softly.
The sound of glass breaking echoes through the air.
And the beautiful girl,
Now lay in broken pieces.
Beautiful broken alabaster pieces

on the floor...

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