Bittersweet Loneliness of a China Doll

Pefect yet delicately fragile

Placed on an antique shelf

For all the world to love and admire

Countless eyes gaze in awe

But not one hand dare touch

The porcelain china doll

Vested in a pink floral dress

Like that of it's living counterpart, a geisha

Mimicking the geisha's transcending beauty

But remote, detached existance

An exact replica of a precious artwork

That can not live a destined life

A milky white porcelain face

With painted beady little eyes

That cautiously explore the world

A forbidden fruit of a sight to hold

A drawn smile that can only tell lies

Of an existance of pure happiness

All day the china doll pretends

It's completely content with the loneliness

Of never being held by fragile hands

Or seeing the world outside the safety of the armoir

Denying these chances in complete fear

Of being slightly cracked

And being trashed like the last flawed china doll

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