01-11-2018, 09:36 PM
ty todd and attnattack =] those coments do help a lot, but few things i wanted to explain so poem makes a bit more sense...
=] the speaker is a child. in therapy sessions for children a therapist will present a doll, and have them explain what happened to the doll. The child suffered, and though the cause for pain is gone, they are still a child. i actually really really like the last line... it has a finality to it... the negative feelings have rooted themselves in so hard they are cemented there, right with the fragile inner self. you are right with the word choice but i wanted to keep it simple, it is a child even right to the end. corrupted, but not older because of it. corruption doesnt make you older or more mature it just makes you dark.... but i can cut the repetitiveness. because it is a child telling the story, i thought a fairytale opening would be fitting. ^_^; so even though the once upon a time is really really cliche it is needed in the child speaker.
as for the lines of skin crafting an armor... i tried altering it to make more sense. the doll uses the glue and her broken porcelaine to craft a shell that she uses as armor. i also tried to cut the repetitiveness.
also, the broken word isn't a throwaway, it ties into the pieces falling apart, the imagery of a broken doll trying to hold its broken bits to itself.
how is this for a fix?
Once upon a time there was a doll,
with cracked porcelain skin.
Broken, the doll tried not to fall apart,
but the pieces were sharp, and they hurt.
So she glued herself together. Cracked but whole.
The world was cruel, and it found her broken once more.
Scared, the doll used the glue to make her stronger than before.
Days turned to years, her skin of porcelain
crafted a shell of glue and broken shards.
She used it like armor, for her skin was fragile.
One day the world she knew changed.
The need for glue and armor gone.
Safe from fears of broken pieces,
others called for her to shed her armor
but she found it was deeper than her skin.
It crept into her cracks and glued her broken bits.
Broken and lost porcelain, never found again,
Replaced with shards of hate and anger,
cemented with glue in the fragile porcelain.
=] the speaker is a child. in therapy sessions for children a therapist will present a doll, and have them explain what happened to the doll. The child suffered, and though the cause for pain is gone, they are still a child. i actually really really like the last line... it has a finality to it... the negative feelings have rooted themselves in so hard they are cemented there, right with the fragile inner self. you are right with the word choice but i wanted to keep it simple, it is a child even right to the end. corrupted, but not older because of it. corruption doesnt make you older or more mature it just makes you dark.... but i can cut the repetitiveness. because it is a child telling the story, i thought a fairytale opening would be fitting. ^_^; so even though the once upon a time is really really cliche it is needed in the child speaker.
as for the lines of skin crafting an armor... i tried altering it to make more sense. the doll uses the glue and her broken porcelaine to craft a shell that she uses as armor. i also tried to cut the repetitiveness.
also, the broken word isn't a throwaway, it ties into the pieces falling apart, the imagery of a broken doll trying to hold its broken bits to itself.
how is this for a fix?
Once upon a time there was a doll,
with cracked porcelain skin.
Broken, the doll tried not to fall apart,
but the pieces were sharp, and they hurt.
So she glued herself together. Cracked but whole.
The world was cruel, and it found her broken once more.
Scared, the doll used the glue to make her stronger than before.
Days turned to years, her skin of porcelain
crafted a shell of glue and broken shards.
She used it like armor, for her skin was fragile.
One day the world she knew changed.
The need for glue and armor gone.
Safe from fears of broken pieces,
others called for her to shed her armor
but she found it was deeper than her skin.
It crept into her cracks and glued her broken bits.
Broken and lost porcelain, never found again,
Replaced with shards of hate and anger,
cemented with glue in the fragile porcelain.