Tuesday, August 17, 2010

bReAkAbLe.

I feel locked in a box. 
Put away on a shelf.
Occasionally dusted off.
Put here for all to see.
But no one to touch.
Behind the glass.
Fed daily with pills.
A pat on the head.
A word here or there.
Too fragile.
Too pretty.
Too different.
But empty.
Blessings,
Pink Doberman

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