The Doll
The walls were paper thin, I could hear the world breathe
And the sound of my father’s bags getting ready to leave
It was all too familiar, with tears on my sleeve
He was gone out the door like I couldn’t believe
My dad left a baby doll at the foot of my bed
I think of all the bedtime stories that wouldn’t be read
I think of my mom being on her very last thread
Barely hanging on, the only one making bread
Holding down two jobs just to keep us all fed
Containing the family fire before it could spread
The doll stayed smiling while the house fell apart
She was a plastic reminder of a cold blooded start
We were light in the pockets but heavy in the heart
My mother’s resilience was a silent work of art
Seeing a womanizing man and the back of his hand
They thought they could break her but there she still stands
Her maternal strength would color you impressed
Survival was the one thing that my mother did best
Breaking the generational curse is my new vow
So I carry her fire and I wear her wisdom now
The doll’s still smiling but the world is more still
A reminder that true strength can never be killed
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