The Crown

Love or lust the line wears thin

It slinks and curves its way beyond its medium

Freedom! yells those tied by this thick bramble of vine like string

Til lust and love becomes one

 

Complicated these feelings must be

even for the aged and wise

Through eye's that hold still its light

Are almost snuffed out by 3 minutes of fun

 

2 weeks later...

excitement becomes despair

youthful vigor dies while the weeping song plays

Her sentence ends without a period,

 

Weeks become months

and once was a surface becomes a mound

Lost and afraid she say's her prayers

For 16 is much too young

 

On her 6 month she curses the stars

They fall; shot down by every Fucks and Why's

Alone and no one to hear the cries she dies just a little

Well maybe more...

 

She survived the months before

More and more she curses the days that came and went

Days she spent in bed where strangers spent their times with strangers

They defiled her, riled her emotions with tranqs and pills

 

Breathing still, she pushes

The white coats with their demands and with white hands...

Something laid upon them; a golden head

The crown she thought they said

 

The pain was gone

Her prince was born into her world

She looked upon his face with glee

Unimagined the feelings she gained

 

Through darkness there is light

Through pain there is happiness

Through youth, there's potential to be wise

Through time, there is growth...

 

 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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