deepundergroundpoetry.com

The She That Was Never Loved

She sat in a chair, alone in
the room. Her head was cocked
to one side.

Her eyes were glazed over with
her pitiful view; through the window
she couldn't see the light.

Her heart beat steady beneath her
breast. Her hair fell freely in plastic
locks.

The only sound that bit her ears
was the eery, malevolant tocks of
the clock.


Her hands were scathed and disfigured.
But yours would be too; if you had to
go through the things that poor She
has had to do.


She sat in a chair, alone in her gloom.
This small place was her prison.

And though her pain filled the room;
life is never meant to be lived in.
Written by jadielue (Jade.)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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