At my core I am just a small, crocheted girl Laying in the bottom of my childhood treasure chest In the same pink dress With only half of my blonde hair Sewn on to my head A blank cotton face Only blue eyes stitched in And Momma always said: βIβll get to itβ
Iβm sorry she said
I hope that she meant it.
My older sisters loved their crochet girls My mother loved to make them I know she grew so tired over the years But how could I ever blame her