Here I stand
my hands are raised over my head,
I surrender.

I surrender
to the fall,
to the sword and battle,
for I am weakened and torn,
I need rest and food.

I am no Queen
nor am I above everything,
I am usually like a shadow
deep, avoid, and broke.

My porcelain cracked,
my porcelain
turned black and yellow,
my porcelain fell to pieces
in your hands,
I started to crumble.

The glue didn’t last,
the hold wasn’t strong enough
to keep me from falling apart
like glass.

My porcelain was once new,
but with use,
my porcelain couldn’t handle
such abuse.

Oh no my porcelain is crumbling and decay has come to eat me away.

Come save me my cobbler boy,
make me a heart of gold,
make me brilliant
and eternally yours,
a porcelain doll with a heart of gold.

I surrender to your fix,
to your application
and programming,
for I am broken and
I need your fix.