His Porcelain Doll

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Forever his porcelain doll.

Always there, and was never his, Sitting there quietly everyday, I never said much then, Not even now.

Girls giggling, “She is so creepy” I know I was not a perfect Barbie, Though I seemed to try, Long blonde hair and cold blue eyes, That did not change that I was porcelain, Not plastic, or fabric, Cold, clay, with glass eyes.

Myself alone on swings, I saw as my dusty shelf, While others had friends, Their precious Barbie-dolls.

Though guys do not play with dolls, I was watched by him, A porcelain doll I was, No sound, no voice, I did only have sight, He had known every detail.

Despite the coldness of my eyes and clay body, I was loved out of my classic qualities, Every little detail ignoring I was fragile, To this day still his porcelain doll.


Submitted: November 07, 2009

© Copyright 2020 Precious DeathWish. All rights reserved.

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