Burnt Cold Poem by Izobelle Pulgo

I said
I don't want to get burned
So I'm playing it cool
And I just realized,
With what I'm doing,
I'm such a fool.

Play it real
That's what I ought to do
And not just dodge the ball
Though it's for the kill
For I might still get broken
Even if I avoid the fall.

Pretty little girl
With a perferct little world
Lies, lies, lies
All lies
The biggest ever told
She cries.

White as a clean kerchief
Fluid as tears
What beast inside
Angel when they look
Fooling all, she crawl
Only I knew she tried.

She wept
I heard the cries
Silent agony
Alone in a room
Dark with all the shadow
Living could be lonely.

And so the light flickered
Before it finally
Breathed its last
It shivered.
It died.
Wounded & hurt.
Sad.