Broken Child Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The little child sits in the window looking on.
Dreaming of the early dawn.
When the heart rises, then falls.
It easy to see this is where she belong.
To take it from her is so wrong.

Riding a sinking ship in a brutal storm.
Such a paradox when the mind is completely gone.
Completely numb.

Wilting roses on the bed.
The love and tenderness of the truly forgotten.
A booked filled with hollowed out pages getting ever stale, and rotten.
This cant be, built upon a tragedy.

Such a mixed up melody.
Can't you hear it, not even in your sleep?
Something can only be understood from the deep.

The little child sits in the window looking on.
Dreaming of the early dawn.
When the heart rises, then falls.
It easy to see this is where she belong.
To take it from her is so wrong.

The little child sits in the window looking on.
Dreaming of the early dawn.
When the heart rises, then falls.
It easy to see this is where she belong.
To take it from her is so wrong.

So wrong, oh can't you see this where she belongs.

Burnt to cinders.
Ashes dress the near by trees.
No way to contain it.
No super hero in the darkness of the light.
Choking on the spreading fumes.
Not single siren is heard.
The thoughts come to mind.
I guess we're on our own.
On our own.