In this game we call life. We are all dolls. Each of us looking to be perfect. Wind us up, watch us dance. We twirl, we glide. We are Perfect, In the eyes of our creator we are flawed. The more we try the further we fall. Take off the handcuffs and pull me with you. Take me for a dace hold me tight dont let go. I may just fall. Dance with me the game of love. Am I a broken doll? Kneel down and kiss my ring you are my bound to me forever. My little broken doll.
A poem by waterspirt345
The_Day_The_AngleFlew · Wed Dec 14, 2005 @ 11:06pm · 1 Comments |