The porcelain mask and all its cracks

Sits upon the once-hopeful’s face with a grin

Battered from years of love and all it lacks

It is failing its disguise like a veneer grown thin

The dreams of a little girl so naive

To a world that flourishes upon despair and death

Grows into a hopelessness doomed to grieve

As those dreams venture upon their last breath

The little girl, now a woman grown

Feels...