A porcelain doll,
So soft in complexion.
In her confidence
I place my greatest failings.
She doesn’t know
That she is my refuge.
I prefer to listen, though,
To the silence of her
Trials and tribulations.
A peace is found here.
How could a mere man
Craft such a divinity?
Why would I place such faith
In a relic of what should have been?
How can her dark eyes
Force such a devotion?
I ask without rhetoric.
I have found an answer.
Such art must be cherished.
Check out my Facebook, or my book
Dcid Corvid 