Pretty little doll
Dangling from one too many strings
Has been tugged up and down
And dragged across one too many stages
One too many times.
A few chips and scratches, she owns
Hastily covered by expensive paints
But that's all paint does.. covers.
Charming little doll
Not too delicate looking
Made from strong materials
But even those wear down with time
And with the wrong attention.
Her glass eyes are just a little cloudy
Her joints are so loose now
Not even the puppeteer has much control anymore.
She's cherished, but utterly useless
Only a sense of duty saves her from the trash
Perhaps this is not such a happy thing..?
Dear, dear doll...
How sad she would be
If she but had feelings to feel.
