The Rag Doll

He saw the broken rag doll on a dirty road
He looked at her with odd awed
He picked her up and gave her hope
He picked her up and gave her a taste of love
He took her to his home
He placed the doll on a high stand
where he could appreciate her rotten face
He could see her beaten legs
Dirty and tattered to the core
He could see her dress
shredded to pieces
by millions of moths
What had been locks of hair was now
two strands of raw cords
that sat on top of her bare head
Making her look like a gruesome burlesque
Her arms could barely hold themselves in place
Her face was cold and tearful
Her mouth was full of blood
Her cheeks were frozen zircon
Her eyes the color of estiercol
No one would dare to look at her
Beneath the shattered dress
she had an aperture deep inside her chest
There it laid a deep black hole
where only a heart could belong
There underneath such pestilence
a small tiny heart belonged
Her fake smile was gone

She did not belong there

Much less elevated in such high place
She was repulsive to the sight
But he would give it a try
If he could make the doll feel
He would accomplish his deed
He looked through her crude eyes
and told her wonders of something called love
The doll bled from her hole
and tiny droplets rolled down her eyes
He touched her mounstrous face and said
"you ought to be mine"
He kissed her deteriorated lips softly
tasting her tartful blood
The hole bled and bled
Her eyes poured rain
She was somehow complete
But she found herself in his arms

brutally shaken by his brusque hands
She felt her arms torn apart
Just like her illusion of being put back
He picked her up from the ground
Only to throw her to the trash
Maudlin as it sounds,
she belonged there
after all......