The Tale of a stuffed Toy
Contributed by
Euphoria
on
Tuesday, 3rd September 2002 @ 07:35:03 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
I cannot think any more!
It is the night of the Asian bride,
An end to an era,
Upon a fragrant bed,
She won’t hold me any more,
The virgin memories of my lost child,
My lost friend…remain;
Engraved in the face of time
She is the last image,
Of a painting,
Washed away in the rain of age,
Time curves around a corner,
And woman hood sprouts,
And I am rocking alone in an empty room,
My body stuffed with saw dust,
My eternal smile, a tight backstitch,
Black plastic eyes, fake…fake all over,
But I was her first love,
The first friend in her secret garden,
Alas I lie forgotten in the attic,
Then when there was the war,
Amidst the shooting and raping,
An unwanted end,
To her fairy tale,
So many funerals,
So many graves,
And her incessant tears,
She was left in a vacuum,
Running towards a desiccated house,
A dirty attic and broken dreams,
Toppling cartons, turning over boxes,
Finding me, holding me,
Yes…o sweet one…you are once again my child;
And I am once again her stuffed toy.
Copyright ©
Euphoria
... [
2002-09-03 07:35:03]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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