I sit upon the highest shelf.
With no one to play with.
Dust gathers on these fading rosy cheeks,
And my hair is filled with cobwebs.
There will never be a visible frown,
This fake smile is plastered on forever.
These dull blue eyes,
Stare off into the emptiness,
For everyone overlooks
This porcelain doll.
a poem i wrote about a year ago and just edited