deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Weeping Child

A shroud of clouds
obscures her colors
while a mute melody
plays in her mind,
clouds of time
converging to conceal
truth from her eyes,
her last shelter
frozen in fright.
Thus, an unseen mouth
convinces her
to drown in the ocean
of shadows
beyond the border
of reality,
where no hand
can reach
the weeping child
inside.
Written by Mundus
Published
Author's Note
This poem is not about myself nor anybody else. I have a definite idea of what it means but I'd love to hear your interpretations of it, hoping that it could have sparked feelings and ideas in your mind.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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