deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hand Me Down
Sitting in a corner,
On the very top shelf.
Up so high,
Pretending it's because I'm attempting to fly,
Rather than accepting it's because I never received an invitation to play...
Watching what occurs down below.
A new little girl
playing with her perfect little dolls;
all in their brand new dresses.
But I have been passed between every aunt,
every uncle...
No one wants to play with a used toy.
A doll with a missing eye,
A torn dress.
I've been tossed around,
Passed around,
too many times
and far too quickly for any child to grow attached.
No one knows what to do with me anymore...
But I want to play.
I try to climb down.
But instead...
I fall.
On the very top shelf.
Up so high,
Pretending it's because I'm attempting to fly,
Rather than accepting it's because I never received an invitation to play...
Watching what occurs down below.
A new little girl
playing with her perfect little dolls;
all in their brand new dresses.
But I have been passed between every aunt,
every uncle...
No one wants to play with a used toy.
A doll with a missing eye,
A torn dress.
I've been tossed around,
Passed around,
too many times
and far too quickly for any child to grow attached.
No one knows what to do with me anymore...
But I want to play.
I try to climb down.
But instead...
I fall.
Published 18th Jun 2019
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18th Jun 2019 12:58pm
18th Jun 2019 1:08pm
