There was a doll who was porcelain
Who happened to play the violin
One day she fell
Although the did not swell
She healed short an nose and limb
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Thoughts
PoetryThoughts Traps that linger Holding us hostage inside Our own mind Using us, driving us to insanity, to Gouge our eyes out Hoping something could release us from This- this trap our own mind a maze of Sins, waiting to be let out Poetry helps me ease...
The Violinist
There was a doll who was porcelain
Who happened to play the violin
One day she fell
Although the did not swell
She healed short an nose and limb
