The Doll

A Poem by Mythangelo
April 8, 2004

She sat by her pillow in her nights of sweet slumber,
She lay in her arms when the world was all wonder.

She was given to her by the one she adored,
by the one who had sworn to protect her before.

When she laughed and she cried, she was there by her side,
She was hers when she laughed, even more when she cried.

Of her crying and tears, there just seemed to be more,
In the voice of her father, no more love like before.

And she’s cradled by fear, when she closes her eyes
And she’s hugged even tighter when she hears mommy’s cries.

What is this, some foul liquid daddy drinks every day?
And he screamed at her mommy and he pushed her away.

But her doll was by her, as her happiness faded,
As his mind became poisoned by this liquid she hated.

And she was in her arms, on that night he came home.
She just wanted his love, him, to be left alone.

And she pushed and he pushed and his strength overcame,
And she laid on the floor, on the doll a red stain.

Now she sits on the grass, and she leans on a stone.
And she lays cold and silent, and forever alone.

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