The Waiting Game Poem by Angela Wybrow

The dark-skinned doll was left on the shelf:
She sat there alone; all by herself;
Her fellow dolls: those with fairer skin tones,
Were quickly snapped up and given new homes.

Yet, the dark-skinned doll was just as trendy;
She was just as pretty; her face, just as friendly.;
She wanted to be like all of the others:
To appeal to young girls and.to their mothers.

Despite her dusky pink lips and eyes of brown-gold,
She found herself constantly left in the cold;
She had long, raven hair, with a real, lovely shine:
Sat in her box, she was a doll in her prime.

Day after day, she was left sitting there:
In my heart and my mind, I thought it unfair;
To this beautiful doll, I had taken a shine,
And I knew all along that she would be mine.

She really was the prettiest thing,
And, when I saw her, she made my heart sing;
I lifted her down from the toy aisle shelf,
Then paid my money and kept her all for myself.