She picked up the toys
that littered her floor
and said to herself,
“I will need these no more.”
She shuffled the items
and that’s when it fell,
a rather old dolly
she once knew quite well.
She knelt to the floor
and picked up the poor thing
that appeared to be broken.
She noticed the string
in its back was now loose.
And, its clothing was tattered.
And, when she had moved it
a few pieces scattered.
The arm was now broken
but somehow attached.
“I guess I could keep it
if it was just scratched…
but deep in the middle,
the wood fiber’s smashed…
I’m sorry, dear dolly,
you’ve got to get trashed.”
There was a brief silence--
Then there came a sigh.
Then there came a voice.
It was soft--it was high.
It came from the doll
lying there in her hands.
It had a strong will.
And, it had one demand.
“Please,” the doll said.
“Don’t throw me away…
I know you can fix me…
Please, let me stay…
I know that I’m only
a doll made of wood;
But, you used to love me.
How am I no good?”
“You don’t understand,”
The startled girl said.
--“You can’t fix me up;
so, you’ll trash me instead?”
“You’d be an eye-sore.
I can’t let you stay.
I can’t quibble much more.
I must throw you away…”
She readied the doll,
and walked toward the bin.
And once she got closer,
she put the doll in.
It understood, now,
one thing which was clear--
Deep reassurance
confirmed its worst fear.
It yielded and sighed,
then covered an eye.
“Not deserving to love…
is deserving to die…”
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