Polly never wanted a *******
She wanted a key
Just wanted out
Of her cage, to be free
Polly had a pretty song,
sang it soft, sang it wrong.
Candy colors, bedtime lies,
sleepy stars and watching eyes.
They said the world was nice and fair,
brush your doll’s soft plastic hair.
Close your eyes, be good, behave,
don’t ask questions, just be brave.
A man named Gerald, last name Friend,said, “I’ll keep you safe till the end.”
Funny joke, a silly lie
friends don’t make you want to die.
Hush now, Polly, don’t make noise,
broken girls are quiet toys.
Pink bow, shaking hands,
learning things you didn’t plan.
The walls were close, the room too small,counting cracks instead of dolls.
Sing your song, don’t scream, don’t fight,morning doesn’t mean alright.
They teach the girls from very young:
hold your keys, bite your tongue.
Don’t go out, don’t stay too late,
fear is just a “girl” trait.
Polly’s song is slow and sweet,
sticky like old candy treats.
Sounds like playtime, sounds like fun,
ends before it’s really done.
Now she lives in every street,
every girl with careful feet.
All of the innocence in the world
The ones who’s words are never heard
That got destroyed when he “scored”
And every no that was ever ignored
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 6:48 PM UTC
Polly never wanted a *******
She wanted a key
Just wanted out
Of her cage, to be free
Polly had a pretty song,
sang it soft, sang it wrong.
Candy colors, bedtime lies,
sleepy stars and watching eyes.
They said the world was nice and fair,
brush your doll’s soft plastic hair.
Close your eyes, be good, behave,
don’t ask questions, just be brave.
A man named Gerald, last name Friend,said, “I’ll keep you safe till the end.”
Funny joke, a silly lie
friends don’t make you want to die.
Hush now, Polly, don’t make noise,
broken girls are quiet toys.
Pink bow, shaking hands,
learning things you didn’t plan.
The walls were close, the room too small,counting cracks instead of dolls.
Sing your song, don’t scream, don’t fight,morning doesn’t mean alright.
They teach the girls from very young:
hold your keys, bite your tongue.
Don’t go out, don’t stay too late,
fear is just a “girl” trait.
Polly’s song is slow and sweet,
sticky like old candy treats.
Sounds like playtime, sounds like fun,
ends before it’s really done.
Now she lives in every street,
every girl with careful feet.
All of the innocence in the world
The ones who’s words are never heard
That got destroyed when he “scored”
And every no that was ever ignored
For context, I based this poem on the song Polly by Nirvana about a girl who was kidnapped, ***** and tortured by man named Gerald Friend
