THE LITTLE DOLL

There it lies upon the floor;

A broken doll that moves no more.

A tattered skirt a shredded sock;

Where's the key that's her hearts unlock?

A damaged eye, a balding head;

Someone let this doll go dead.

A stitched up arm, a patched up shirt;

What has caused her all this hurt?

Covered in dirt with a missing shoe;

What is this little doll to do?

With a bit of luck you'll pass her way;

Instead of looking past her today.

Days go by, then weeks and years;

Little doll runs out of tears.

Someone is coming so look your best;

Maybe they're different from all the rest.

They stop by little doll, looking down upon her face;

They seem to notice she is out of place.

What happened that day, we still are not sure;

Those occurrences are mostly just a blur.

Little doll is finally neat and clean;

What has happened? What could this mean?

Wrapped in a box with tissue galore;

Maybe her life is meaningful once more!

A gift for another she has become;

The place on the floor, she's been taken from.

The new owner loves her and cherishes her too;

But tosses her aside when they've found something new.

     And so this cycle goes on about;

The little doll begins to doubt.

There it lies on the floor once again;  

Still waiting and waiting for life to begin...