Patterns of desperate woe

Fall into patterns of desperate woe,
time enough to see the shadow,
vanished, gone past, memories become meshed,
trapped there inside a wall of flesh.

The flesh is paper, covering brick,
brick wall is rib cage, where heart still ticks,
where gathered beats, from drums unleashed,
where in music, she finds her sweet release.

Drenched with aroma, lips are petals bloom,
finding solice sweet, within her empty room,
in her shadow, not always at night,
for shadows are made when blocking light.

Flawless myth, a tranquil mind,
words flow free, creating pictures for the blind,
hear the words, but do you feel?
do we play pretend like children, or is it real?

Vanished such sweet and warmth in me,
patchwork soul and spirit seized,
such loss creating tears for eyes to burn,
a cruelty in humanity, this child did learn.

To murmur in questions of wrong and right,
to cry as a child in the dark, no night light,
unutterable thoughts have crossed my mind,
but mostly just thoughts are left behind.

Bright star to wish upon, not all wishes come true,
not many happy endings, only in fairy tales do,
not every princess has her hero, nor castle has a king,
and not every little girl, has a once upon a dream.