A worn-out porcelain doll
Her face is broken
Her left arm seems to be lost
There’s a pin through her stomach
And a wilted flower on her heart

She has dirt on her ripped dress
Her blonde hair has turned brown
A shoe on one leg
No foot on the other
Tell me, why do you even bother?

You say you’ll fix her
And make sure she’s happy
I laugh, wondering what you mean
You’ll just be like everyone else
Clean her clothes and add new parts

But you don’t do that
Not at all
You replace the flower
On the broken doll.

 
Copyright © myownhappyending, All Rights Reserved