She was a toy,
But he had manners.
Because her master,
Shared her with others.
The pupater directed,
And she followed,
And followed.
Like a good little doll.
Because the doll saw a prince.
But her master pupater,
Saw only a doll from the beginning.
She was his plaything.
The pupater held the doll to others.
And they gladly accepted their new toy.
The doll didn't protest,
Scared to upset her prince.
A doll has no right.
Then the doll tried not to cringe,
As a sea of hands covered her.
They ripped her apart,
Seam by seam.
YOU ARE READING
Human
Non-FictionI've gone through some crap. We all have, so maybe you can relate. This is poetry about the life of another depressed human.
