Narration, a dangerous game
You took a photo
framed up upon your wall.
her broken smile
slips past your blindfold
her glassy eyes
scream for a brighter day
were
dark clouds lighten there whips of rain.
let her breath
the light of day
fairytails never last
she painted this floor
with a river of
crimson red.
one last photo
her smile no longer fake
her eyes
no longer scream
they glare into
early rays
of a risen sun.
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