I Am a Porcelain Doll
I am a porcelain doll.
Fair of face, coveted by a young girl.
My smile is welcoming, cheeks are rosey,
My dress wrinkle and tear free
Each button in place.
I am a porcelain doll.
Cracks feathered lightly across my pained face.
I’m the one they come to when worried, stressed
Clutching at me too tightly
I’m feeling my age.
I am a porcelain doll.
Older now, but still adored by my girl
Who needs me much more as she fights cancer.
She sets me down way too hard
And runs to vomit.
I am a porcelain doll.
My face sloppily glued back together
That painted-on smile at last wiped away.
Who would smile at her torture?
My dress has a stain.
I am a porcelain doll
Everything I once thought vital has changed.
I hate my hair — because she is now bald.
Glad my presence gives her hope.
Wish my arms could hug.
I am a sad, broken doll.
I hate my gingham frock — I should wear black.
I am dirty, cleaned only by her tears
And now of those who miss her.
The lid closes. We rest.
January 6, 2019
Free Verse Only Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2019
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