pink cotton candy floss from the fair
died red and straightened is her hair
her cheeks and lips are cherry flame
her spirit a wild stallion to tame
but I have tamed it, now she's mine
her eyes and nose no longer shine
her creamy face is smudged with dirt
her dress no more than a mini-skirt
she lies alone and forgotten under the bed
but I don't care, cause dollies can't be dead
when I deign to smooth her hair again
at some far distant date and place
her eyes and nose and cheeks will gleam again
and there will be a smile on her face.
Theme Thursday, where interpretations run amok.
10 comments:
smiles. great poem...
happy tt!
Dolls are a sort of undead.
At first that post felt a little scary until I realized it was about a doll...
...And then it got a little scary again, since I think dolls can be kind of... creepy...
It was a great poem though. Well done. Happy TT! /Jo.
Whew...I'm glad you were talking about a doll...it was getting disturbing there for a moment...
I like our poem, but I agree, until I realized it was about a doll... And on that note, why are dolls and clowns so often scary?
My post for Pink, close to my heart, is up here.
pink thinks great of your poem!
awesome post!
i'm with everyone else... that was starting to get a bit creepy before you said it was a doll. but great poem.
A lovely tale :)
My mother used to wash and dress our dolls if we neglected them. Yeh she was weird like that.
this was fantastic! your prose is tight, strong words made stronger yet by how well you use them...i am seriously impressed!!
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