Dear Esther,

Oh, I've become broken pottery,
Attacked by the millions of slanders that swim in the sea

I'm a disfigured building block,
Trying to fit in,
Foolishly chasing the wind;
Hopeless dreams

I've been trapped in the shadows,
For too long
Withering along with fading flowers,
In a dead meadow

It's too late,
To mend my fragile porcelain soul;
For time has grown,
Far too old...

Quinn