I look at broken dolls sitting on the shelf <br />No smiles left to gaze upon, I'll curl up on the window sill with a book of ghosts, hold onto broken dollie. <br />Ive grown so old and so has Dollie. <br />The dusty curtains go right through my face. <br />My eyes are just like the curtains, worn, thin, but still sane. <br />My innocence is like tainted glass. <br />I can pretend but it wont last. <br />I cant erase the past. Dollie cant erase the past. <br />Dollie wants to kill me, she's been in my attic for years. <br />'Ive been in his' I try to explain. <br />But there really is no reason to abandon anything. <br />Dollie tells me how she was stuffed in a dusty trunk. I tell her 'So was i! ' <br />'Well thats no excuse' she says 'Because dollies cant cry' <br />She is right. I mourned in my dust covered trunk. <br />She sat there silently as her painted smile faded off.<br /><br />Rachel Weaver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-dollie/
