The girl hums happily, stitching the ragdoll back together.
Spools and needles lay around her, ready as ever.

Every morning she threads a needle and stuffs back the cotton.
Smiling to herself whilst looping the pretty buttons.

Each night is the same as the young girl sleeps.
The ragdoll awakens and from the bed she leaps.

She tears at her stitching and yanks out the cotton.
Pulls her limbs away and prays to lay there forgotten.

But the girl never forgets and at every dawn,
gathers the doll up with a smile and a yawn.

''Oh ragdoll, every night you do the same thing.
Tear yourself up limb from limb.

You don't think you're special or worthy or loved.
At the bottom of every pile of dolls, you've been shoved.

But I will keep stitching you back up until you see,
just how much you really mean to me.'