Mockingjay

Monday, November 26, 2012

Secret

Like raindrops on harp strings,
The gentle lullaby plays,
It emits temporary bliss,
Yet brings me immense pain.

Sawing at my emotions,
Deep down inside,
Such lovely pure music,
Echoing against a ruined mind.

The projector starts up,
Showing images most foul,
Of things i regretted the most,
That sent my nightmares on a prowl.

Innocence lost,
From a naive little girl,
Who sought shelter from a monster,
And thought him a rare pearl.

A secret buried deep down,
Inside her soiled little heart,
Afraid that it will ever emerge,
She wished that he would just depart.

She wanted him to die,
Along with her shameful secret,
With it eating at her everyday,
Of how she accepted the pervert.

Her own worst enemy,
Her mind beat her down,
That she was no longer pure,
She may as well drown.

Shameful, dirty, stupid,
The names got more worse,
All coming from inside her head,
Her own little curse.

She weeps in secret,
Of how dirty she felt,
When this lullaby played,
Against the secret she could never tell. 

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