Dolls of Trash

December 12, 2011
By raichel.jenkins GOLD, Cincinnati, Ohio
raichel.jenkins GOLD, Cincinnati, Ohio
15 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
\" When rain hits a true artist\'s painted canvas, they do not despair, they say the dripping paint is now truly art. Art is a happy accident.\"


Alone under a blanket dirt
Arms hang limp against sides that have endured both the hugs and the throws
One glass eye cracked
A point of view forever warped
Lips with the red bleached from their pout
Finger curled grasping for the warm hands
That before had so eagerly held it
After years of loyalty and smiling silence
Thrown out with the rubbish
For daring to smile its sunbleached lips
To raise its glassy eyes to the sky
To see only
dismal silence reflected back
And with slowly closing eyes
Lashes are dampened
And not from the rain
The doll surrenders
To its shallow grave
Of betrayal and silence
For silence is one thing
The doll has endured before


The author's comments:
" We are all dolls, thrown around until limp, but if we once try and raise our voices, we are silenced. "

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