Post by Nicky on Apr 29, 2007 23:21:56 GMT -5
I never ever write poems, so that's why this sucks... but oh well. I sort of wrote it a bit randomly... I got an idea in my head and just kept going. It's not based on me or anyone I know... just wanted to clarify that,
The Angel in Rags
She's tired.
She's confused.
She feels lonely
and used.
Dabbled in such joy-masked stress,
She stares at the stains
On her torn Cinderella dress
And looks out the window in her distress.
Ever since mommy's gone
She walks in her shoes,
Her footsteps she must chase,
Waking before the sun
Each morning
With no time to wash her face.
There's no time to fool around,
Or in punishment she will drown.
She lights the stove
Makes the tea
Rounds up the cattle,
Quite a dreadful battle.
Then in his room
does she peek,
But then tiptoes back out -
He is still asleep.
The angel in rags
then gives a sigh.
But out of the corner of her eye,
Daddy begins to stretch and yawn,
And down the hallway
Does she run.
She can't let him see her,
'Till her chores are done.
Mistakes can't be made,
for daddy will know.
Unless her tiny nose
she wants to grow.
Those sparkling eyes
Do not hide lies
To hearts
That melt autumns into winters
Perfection's always met
Lest daddy gets upset.
Chores are done each day,
She keeps building the chain,
Without a complaint
Or even so little as
a much hoped for praise.
Never a peep
From an angel we hear.
Never a cry,
Never a tear.
Never a peep
From an angel we hear.
Never a cry,
Never a tear.
The Angel in Rags
She's tired.
She's confused.
She feels lonely
and used.
Dabbled in such joy-masked stress,
She stares at the stains
On her torn Cinderella dress
And looks out the window in her distress.
Ever since mommy's gone
She walks in her shoes,
Her footsteps she must chase,
Waking before the sun
Each morning
With no time to wash her face.
There's no time to fool around,
Or in punishment she will drown.
She lights the stove
Makes the tea
Rounds up the cattle,
Quite a dreadful battle.
Then in his room
does she peek,
But then tiptoes back out -
He is still asleep.
The angel in rags
then gives a sigh.
But out of the corner of her eye,
Daddy begins to stretch and yawn,
And down the hallway
Does she run.
She can't let him see her,
'Till her chores are done.
Mistakes can't be made,
for daddy will know.
Unless her tiny nose
she wants to grow.
Those sparkling eyes
Do not hide lies
To hearts
That melt autumns into winters
Perfection's always met
Lest daddy gets upset.
Chores are done each day,
She keeps building the chain,
Without a complaint
Or even so little as
a much hoped for praise.
Never a peep
From an angel we hear.
Never a cry,
Never a tear.
Never a peep
From an angel we hear.
Never a cry,
Never a tear.
