Paper Doll

I originally posted this back in March of this year, but a post by Gabbie on her blog

Tell me, when will my life begin made me decide to re-post it.

 

She’s a paper doll

The kind you’d like to pin up on the wall

So it seems

That questions always follow from my dreams

And where, why, who has left this paperdoll upon my door?

I see her, but my eyesight’s very poor

And I want more

 

She’s a paper doll

Thing’s just aren’t as obvious after all

Clinging to

All my old thoughts, while this is nothing new

Just as I reached through the hanging mist and touched the day

The day was cold and sterile anyway

And yet I stay

 

New feelings call from another room

And I must answer their cry soon

Or leave the paper doll

Upon the table

Ink blue eyes

On the paper doll

Pencil tears

Drawn from my eyes

Over the paper doll

 

-March 1992

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4 thoughts on “Paper Doll

    • Not really bitter. At least I didn’t intend it to sound that way. Melancholy perhaps, or just filled with doubt.

      There is bit of a story behind this poem.

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