I am forever a doll in a dollhouse, although I am here by chance.
I never chose to be here, nor was I given warning in advance.
Placed here by fate, four walls keep me grounded and closed in,
Isolated from the vast, but tragic world, instead living in a reality of “would have beens.”
Yellow siding and white shutters, a beautiful design,
A house fit for a princess, not an ungrateful heart like mine.
So I sit here in my tower, and waste my days away,
Thinking if I was allowed to speak, what would I ever say?
I am a doll in a dollhouse, spending my days in a miniature world,
Pondering when I’ll be set free, when I’ll be outgrown by this eight year old girl.
I serve as her escape into a fantasy place, one where her perspective rules,
And I am just subjected to her plans, like something broken is to a box of tools.
However broken I may be, or as unhappy as I am,
I will admit this girl is my realm of understanding to outside my window – a foreign land.
I wonder if I’ll ever make it out there, if I’ll see all there is to see,
I’m in this dollhouse now, but I have faith that if I am patient, I will soon be set free.