Worn

She was a muse

In the hands of those

Who handled her poorly

Who built castles in the sky

Upon her shattered smile

With the fractured pieces of her heart

Without regard for her unguarded while

To devour her like used rags

And recycled paper

 

“SHE WAS A MUSE IN THE HANDS OF THOSE WHO HANDLED HER POORLY”

 

 

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