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She would never think to question him
For what he’d done that day,
Never think to answer him
Or his pleas to light the way.

She would never try to dissuade him
Should he decide to try again,
And though his cries grew ever louder,
She’d let his path grow dim.

For you see, she wasn’t in the place
To give the boy advice;
She’d only been stolen for her pretty face,
A doll without a price.
©2006-2009 ~Videz-Le-Sourire
:iconvidez-le-sourire:

Author's Comments

I wrote this for the school magazine that's coming out, which focuses on literary work done by students. My Psychology teacher requested that I do something because, I guess, she noticed my skill in writing both prose and poetry (Although I don't really think I'm all that special... >> ). I had been going to submit another poem I'm working on, but I couldn't think of anything to finish that one poem, so instead I just wrote a new one. This is the product...It took me about two minutes to write...

Umm, there's really not much to say about it. The title is a metaphor, and the poem itself has two dfferent meanings. I hope all of you like it...=3 I do.

Critique is welcome. Hopefully I'll get around to finishing that other poem I was talking about, because I'd really like to see what people think of it. ^.^

Comments


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:iconlollipopfire:
Wow... sooo deep... :O
:iconvidez-le-sourire:
*laughs* Thank ye. xD

--
Hi there. =D I don't have much to say...

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April 30, 2006
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