Once long ago I had a porcelain doll
so beautiful she never left my side.
I couldn't set her on the shelf against the wall
for if I did the sacred bond would have died.
As time came to pass her beauty wore away,
her paint peeled and her clothes became stained with age.
I loved her so that this did not make me sway
for her beauty in my heart was the true visage.
Blind was I to the peeled paint and true colors
that it was a shock when I woke from the dream
only to find I was the doll and she the girl
who quickly tired of me and left me unseen,
alone in dust, in pained, unrelenting sorrow.
I watched as she played with dolls, so many more.
Behind the glass I a mannequin longing for tomorrow
to come and set me free in death for evermore.
Yet, death did not come for me, only cruel time
and many more dolls had felt her impure touch.
Resigned to solitude with memory of my crime
of loving a worn doll a little too much
and closing my heart to the notion of love,
another child walked into t