The Broken Doll Poem by Rosa des Fleurs

They no longer come to play
The broken doll sits in the corner
her eyes have lost their sparkle
her hair has become dull
her party dress is stained and wrinkled

I watch the dancers
their firm tight bodies tease the pole
their party dresses have been removed
they have no shame
the men talk and crush their spent cigs into the ashtray

I recall the moments,
the softly uttered words,
I need you
I love you

The kalediscope of images whirls about me
the voyeur glimpses this world of amusements and cries