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Crumpled
Darkness splatters onto her heart
as a hovered quill does over paper.
Slowly dripping onto the frail fleshy skin,
masking what was once there with black.
Her hands twitch to grab hold of
what was once there,
but no physical approach is taken
to draw back her line.
Her eyes begin to become glossy
Soft compared to her normal smooth fighting spirit.
She is torn.
She was mislead.
She was told she would make history,
become a big star.
She would change the world.
She believed, and she was thrown away.
The trash bin rattles as she
reaches her final destination.
The author grabs another from his pile
with a lick of his finger.
“You’ll be the one” he says in a quiet whisper.
A little piece of crumpled paper sits in the bin,
listening to her creator swoon over another.
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I wrote this poem on my own time, and sat on it for a few weeks. I then had the chance to take it to a poetry work shop to be viewed by other, which I did and I have finished the edits to present to you 'Crumpled.'