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Sep 17
My old hands cannot caress her,
She’s way too weak and too fragile
I miss the way I used to dress her,
Like that white day on the aisle.

In her nightgown, she is resting
Sleeping beauty in her room,
I can hear her silent praying
She cannot escape The Doom.

Doll was gifted to my mother
From her mother to my own,
Like this blonde one, there’s no other
And if there is it’s still unknown.

I take her far into the graveyard
The stones as great as my mistakes
I tell her “Hey, I lost my mazzard”,
Will you help my brain that aches?”

In a world that hates its feathers,
It’s the world I’ve ever known
There’s only one, she never left me,
And that’s you, my favorite doll.
Written by
Mia  Greece
(Greece)   
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