Written by: Kelli Egloff-Metzgar

I don't play with dollies...
Barbie and Ken were sold to 
a little girl at a garage sale
many years ago.
My crayons are motionless
and my coloring books have
faded yellow with age.
All my games like Chutes 
and Ladders, Monopoly, and
Life are packed in a box 
somewhere in the attic 
collecting dust.
My mother no longer tells
me to go to bed
Or to be in at ten o'clock.
She doesn't kiss me 
goodnight or tuck me in.
I close my bedroom door
by myself at night.
I undress in the blackness,
for the nightlight burned 
out long ago.
And when I crawl into my
single bed, I reach for my 
teddy bear, and tears
fall into the darkness.