Manipulated Puppet - Poem by Sylvia Thomas
In her eyes,
the reflection of the world,
the innocence of a child,
the seed of beauty.
In her hands,
the touch of grace,
the flame of majesty,
the strength of kindness.
But within that perfect vase,
there's not a flower,
not a soul,
She dances with much grace,
but her heart is not moving,
she can neither weep nor smile,
becase she's just an empty shell.
Comments about Manipulated Puppet by Sylvia Thomas
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda