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Puppet Girl

By , Spring, TX

This little puppet girl
Dangles lifeless from her string
Dangles deathly from her casket
No, you can’t hear those church bells ring.

She pauses-eyes are gleaming,
Wanders lively on their will
No one knows inside she’s broken
Sitting alone on the windowsill.

She is wiry, she is beaten,
Her skin is ruined with scars,
She needs some desperate healing
But healing, we know, is hard.

Here lies the little puppet girl,
Kissed by grief, she’s dead.
Maybe we should have listened
To all that she has said.

Here lies the little puppet girl
Six feet underground
If anyone ever cared for her
Maybe she’d be safe and sound.

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