Queen of Porcelain

On the top shelf
Of my toy store,
There rests a glass case.
No kids are allowed
To reach for it,
Should any
Of my dolls
Fall or break.
I have the most
Priceless collection –
All made of the finest
Porcelain, crystal and lace,
But there’s one
Piece of work
In particular –
That truly
Steals the cake.

She stands alone
In the corner,
With thoughts in space.
And a constant stream
Of tears
Are always rolling
Down her face.
The kids are all in awe of her –
They’ve even
Named her
Sadness’s Daughter –
One night
In the wee hours,
Her tears had filled up
The whole case with water.

There’s something special
In her eyes
That I can’t fully describe,
But sets her vibe apart
From them all. —
It’s as if she holds
The secrets of time,
Yet the world passes her by –
Not knowing that
A key to Truth
Could be
Hidden behind four walls
Inside a commercial
Shopping mall.

She knows it all –
But feels small.
She gazes through her
Rainbow lenses
Drinking the world’s
Beauty, mirages and flaws.
Her feelings are human
She’s an angel
Immune to earthly
Rules and laws.
She scrawls the stalls,
And endures the falls.
She rises to wrong
And shines Truth to all.

You can buy a bulb,
But this Light is not for sale.

There’s a genius and a
Always meeting
Behind her serene veil.

She’s not for sale.
Not for retail.
She’s a special piece
With ancient detail
Too fragile and unique
To ever let sail.

But I’ll let you in
On a little thing —
Exposing her to negative energies
Is almost worse than committing sin.
And that’s why we call her
‘The Queen of Porcelain’–
She’s beautifully painted
On the outside,
But she’s fully loaded
With branches of cracks
Under and in.

What’s over is in.
The most beautiful thing.

Copyright 1993 – 2019. All rights reserved.

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