Resurrecting a Broken Doll

Once, I found a tattered doll
under the bench, and,
took her home with me
stiched her back together,
along her ripped seams;
Gave her,
new clothes to wear,
– a shiny new dress,
and a bonnet;
I combed her hair;
I made her a bed,
of flowers,
lay her to rest there;
I touched the scars, on her porcelain face,
her joints were rusty, they creaked,
her lashes had fallen off in places,
her limbs were weak,
she had a limp,
she was a ghost of what she used to be;
Used and abused,
a child’d plaything;
She said, there was no more life left,
in her,
thought, I too would try to play with her..
I shushed her, and sang her
a lullaby instead.
she broke down in her sleep
like that final act of love,
was all,
she really needed.

© soulreserve 2015

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