So many people, staring at me,
They act like I can’t see,
My eyes may be of glass,
But my eyesight will last.
Little children squeal in delight,
My head aches from the constant light,
People tap on the window,
Time goes ever so slow.
Little girls pray to have hair like mine,
Never did I think it was so fine,
My porcelain lips can not make a sound,
But out of my chest my heart surely will bound.
One day like a toy I will be sold,
Perhaps to be prized more then gold,
Or to be locked in a dusty closet and forgotten,
Such has happened to my friends.
I’m a just a doll, so I can’t feel,
But to myself I seem so real,
If only they could see that I am alive,
But they will not and so I will die.
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