Untitled

A poem I wrote sometime earlier in the summer. I don't think I finished it but I decided to post it.

No human can tell what the bird larks
Whether her song be of love, heartbreak or sorrow
No matter the topic, the melody sounds just as sweet

The smile just as bright
Face paint as thick as a geisha's
The happy face

The dancing eyes
As fragile as a porcelain doll
Held tight
The most beloved
Of the prettiest play things owned
Until the masquerade ends
The smile fades
The bright stars in her eyes dims
Then she is placed
On the shelf of other worn
Things
That once held memories