Ode to the Little Porcelain Doll

June 12, 2010
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Your crystal eyes

I think that it’s the end
Somewhere along the road I wondered
Why we were ever friends

I was only seven when
You came into my life, wrapped
In crinkled paper; ribbon

Came with a tiny silver brush
A royal throne to sit on

A lacy bed for you to lie
A chain upon your wrist
To think you had such lovely things
I planted you a kiss

But soon
The excitement
Soon, the rush
Was all but gone
Lost like your brush

I wondered about
Other things
Like fancy clothes and diamond rings
While you sat discontent
To gather dust
I circumvent

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