Sitting on a wooden shelf
Lonely, broken and by herself
Remembering the days when she wasn’t ignored
And all the times she was adored
Life now just isn’t the same
Dust and dirt cover her porcelain frame
Where’s the little girl who loved her
Once she aged she was gone in a blur
The poor thing was only used
For the enjoyment of others then left alone and bruised
No one there to care
Or brush her ringlets of curly, matted blond hair
If glass eyes were meant to cry
Then they would hopefully imply
That she needs help
Too bad her solid closed lips could not yelp
Perhaps one day someone will finally notice
That she has become completely dead, her blue painted eyes soulless
© Copyright 2016 fallen ninja . All rights reserved.
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