She, under her
Big smile stows
away
the unhappy memories
she wants to be
the perfect happy
person in
this world and
everyone would love
Her and she
Kids
herself, she kids
herself of what
she really
is And she is
the empty shell
waiting to be filled
And she is
the little los t orphan
waiting to be found
And she is
the blank book
waiting to be written in
and she is
hollow.
There is nothing hollow about this poem. Deep in fact... but not hollow. Great write! Brian
You're hollow now, but fill yourself with mystic beauty! Please be well!
I agree with sally - very moving, personal yet universal, as with all great poetry. Jon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So sad indeed as this hollow girl wears such a mask. You paint such a clear picture for all to see and heed the words of wisdom.....