Literature
The Chair
There she sat,
Long hair perfectly arranged,
Sitting straight,
Lips bent upward.
There she sat,
Too beautiful for words,
Overly picturesque,
Oozing perfection.
There she sat,
As the smile flipped,
The hair knotted,
Posture drooping as I ran at her.
Here she lies,
A crumpled mess on the floor,
Hair drenched red,
Lips parted, echoing the final cry.