Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Ready For The Flight

I am your doll.
Dress me up.
Parade me around.
Show me off.
Then leave me on the floor.
You don't want me anymore.

And maybe I'm the one to blame.
Raising my hand to play your games.
Now I'm done and my muscles sore.
And you don't want me anymore.

Maybe it'll make sense when I'm older.

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