Dolls
The quiet old lady who
lives on the corner
Has a large collection of
dolls in her home
Her picture window features
many of them
And there are others on
shelves and tables
She has them in every room
of her house
Hundreds, perhaps
thousands, everywhere
With small pretty glass
eyes blankly staring
And long flowing locks of
shining curly hair
Wearing pretty dresses of crushed
velvet
And old fashioned pale
chiffon and sateen
The quiet little lady is
surrounded by them
Sees them no matter which
way she turns
Sees their shining eyes
always observing
Quietly and constantly watching
every move
She moves quietly from one
room to another
Unable to escape the staring
eyes of the dolls
She is held prisoner by
their constant gazing
Never allowed to leave the
dolls alone and
Unable to cry out for
someone to help her
And she knows it would simply
do no good
For the dolls want her to
stay there forever
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