Porcelain Doll Poem by Lissette J. Garcia

Vain mistress tugged,
with reckless tend.
Her porcelain doll
plunked broken.

Blush glossy face penned,
smashed with stains;
Her cloth-swathe
staunch~heart, stolen.

Long cerise locks,
were straitened clean;
Stitched pearl dress torn,
with fetid odors.

Her head removed,
from bod and limbs.
Babe's turquoise gaze,
teared-bloody swollen.

The posh prince panda
and court jester clown
sneered on,
as she yowled out.

Then spoke,
of her impending doom;
'She'll axe thou,
there's no doubt.'

'Thy brow,
seems down right hideous.'
' 'Tis life,
thy grotty fate accept.'

'A fragrant peach
now claims thy seat,
inside the beveled
glass Oak chest.'

'For when her subjects
lose their frost,
shall golden round
a fresh gemmed belle.'

'We spin no tales grieved,
thou shall dwell; '
'Within the pauper's
graveyard shelf.'

writtened: January 28, 2021.