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My Prismed Prison
May 31, 2013
I grew up in your bubble of color
You painted me as the daughter
And you the mother
You were made of prismed veins,
Glass kisses, and rain
And I was just a negligible stain
You never expected me to grow up
Just to stay as your little pup
And drink out of your stained glass cup
You weren't so impeccable after all
I tore away the paintings that made up your walls
And this time I won't be here to put you back together when you fall
© Sarah M., Blairsville, PA
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