Curls, rosy cheeks,
A mask so sweet,
When she speaks,
Your knees go weak.
An angel with a broken wing,
She seeks love’s sting,
Risks angering her beloved king,
Maybe she will just stay for spring.
Spring turns into summer, fall,
Her shining glory, dust covers all,
Soon she will be forced to crawl,
Her lovers, she will no longer enthrall.
Lonely in the world she creates,
She shakes her wings and waits,
Broken wing gone, leaves it to the fates,
No longer can she make it back to the gates.
Saintly mask led her admirers in,
Stayed for the mask of mortal sin,
She now has to live with whats within,
Here is the world’s smallest violin.
~Lynne
An Everyday Girl's Outlet 