Treasure Island

sierra bouvier


Cinderella Dream


The tears that remain
Fall down my face

That little girl I used to be
No longer has a childhood dream

She dreamed of a love everlasting
Like Cinderella in her castle

I was porcelain
But now I’m broken

Shattered into pieces
No longer a whole

This little girl sum of you used to know
No longer put on a show

To hide the fears she had
And the times when she missed her dad

She thought she was so strong but
then you came along and tore her down

She no longer has a smile upon her face
She sits in her room and all her memories fade

Submitted: Saturday, March 12, 2011
Edited: Monday, March 14, 2011
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

sierra bouvier's Other Poems


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Cinderella Dream by sierra bouvier )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Making Poetry, Anne Stevenson
  2. Power of money, Somanathan Iyer
  3. To My Daughter in a Red Coat, Anne Stevenson
  4. Perplexed, Somanathan Iyer
  5. The Spirit Is Too Blunt an Instrument, Anne Stevenson
  6. The Miracle of the Bees and the Foxgloves, Anne Stevenson
  7. I am the authority, life and rule for my.., Melikhaya Zagagana
  8. Holding Moments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  9. The Enigma, Anne Stevenson
  10. Temporarily in Oxford, Anne Stevenson

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]