Stuck

This is from the doll's view of the world, but it is a soul stuck in the doll.

I am stuck in this merciless home.

A porcelian trap I can not succomb.

There's no way out, though I do try.

The longer the isolation, the more tears I cry.

They dress me up, and do my hair.

Where is the freedom? Is it at all fair?

My soul stuck in this stiff little body.

Forced to be still and wear things so gaudy.

The thing most wanted is the chance to be free.

But, until then, won't you come play with me?

Author's Note

Rhyming???? I wrote this while staring at my sister's freaky porcelian 'collectors doll'. I swear the thing stares right back, but it isn't an empty stare. It is one full of envy to be free.......I know I'm insane. It's okay!

Reviews

[Tallulah]

I loved this. You portrayed longing very well. The flow and the rhyming was really good. Great job. This piece is very well written. I think theres a slight typo in the fifth line though.