Broken Doll
by Kayla

I am a broken doll,
Average I am no more,
On the out side I am perfection,
But my heart is bruised and sore.

They call me broken doll,
Because of my broken heart,
My heart broke long ago,
And now it’s in two parts.

The only visible sign of hurt,
Is the sadness in my eyes,
No one knows how I feel,
My smile is my disguise.

I am a porcelain doll,
With a very broken heart,
My thoughts were weapons that broke it,
Now it’s in two parts.

So sweet looking on the outside,
But inside angry and sore,
Why must I watch such tragedy,
Everyday hour by hour.

Placed here on this window sill,
Looking down on the city below,
I see all the madness and misfortune,
The city has for show.

Old ladies being muggers and battered,
Children being shot,
Men sleeping in cardboard boxes,
In empty parking lots.

Inside my tears are falling,
Continuously non-stop,
My broken heart gets heavier,
With every single drop.

Inside my broken heart,
Is swimming in my tears,
For its thinking of the tragedy,
I’ve witnessed through the years.

I am a broken doll,
Who’ll be broken ever more,
On the outside I am perfection,
But my heart is bruised and sore.