Keep your virtues lined along your shelves,
like pretty painted china dolls.
So fragile and pure, but so easily cracked,
with the force of concrete
and dirt.

Your grubby fingernails
cannot veil your thinly coated lies.
A coil of lace
simply won't erase
the disgust you
parade upon your brow.

During the hazy summer days,
I'll reap and sow
the last tears of my love.
And once they're
buried below,
nothing will grow.
Because what you made me feel
was plastic
and plastic seeds
grant no life;
instead
they linger
while time wears on
the darkness enveloping
the hope they never
possessed.
Forgotten,
Along with the decent memories of you.