Poreclain Doll Poem by Chris Newlash

Bouncing like a ball.
The porcelain doll.
As she starts to fall.
Down with her came all.

Beautiful face is now cracked.
Love for her was always lacked.
All her limbs are not in tacked.
The truth of this a horrible fact.

Bones of her are now broken.
To this day she's never woken.
From her mouth these words were spoken:
'It's your fault my bones are broken.'

Broken pieces from her head.
Fall, as you lay her down to bed.
Sacred words were never said.
Porcelain doll, is now dead.