My Mother's Doll

March 2, 2012
By Anonymous

I remember one day, of a story once told,
by a girl named Lynn, hear her tale unfold.

I was about your age, once upon a time.
When imagination and dolls, were still at their prime.
I remember sitting in the garden for hours and hours,
Entertained by the smell of my aunt's precious flowers.
I'd bring out my favorite Kelly, then Dad would be upset,
"No more dolls. You're too old for this little puppet."
So he set up a fire, and burned her he did,
Kelly reminded him of something grave, it was Mom I believe.
How to do without dolls? I wondered and fret.
Without further ado, I turned to my friends instead.
Friends grew old, which made perfect sense,
We interest ourselves to matters of consequence.
Boys replaced dolls, and if I correctly recall,
I had three--the third one had it all.
After which, the boy was gone,
Yet I was itching to find the right one.
Kisses and touches, they're just not enough,
I ventured on to see what more there is to love.
In place of a pink lip gloss lies a coat of dark red,
But I kept by childhood locks crowning my head.
In place of a pajama now I have sheer negligee,
My trusty half-slip swapped for a lacy lingerie.
Crossed legs with pumps while sitting, boys couldn't help but stare,
My clothes were revealing, but I didn't care.
You took away the dolls, that's where it all began,
See Daddy, what kind of girl I am?
Now that I'm twisted, I'll never play with dolls,
Boys are more fun, life-sized and all.
I know how to use my feminine charms now,
I can be a seductress, I've learned how.
No longer will I be entertained with silly little flowers,
Except maybe not for too many hours.
I can walk with you still, in a white Sunday dress,
And come home to smell the smells I missed the best.
After all, this still is an enchanted & innocent world,
Full of young, free and innocent girls.
When I have a daughter, if I have one at all,
One thing's for certain, I'll never take away her doll.

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