A Doll

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  • Life

    A Doll

     A doll sat alone on it's shelf
    A distorted mirrror supine
    As alive as the doll

    In the mirror
    a garden rotting
        a girl screaming
            a girl laughing

    Beautiful new flowers bloomed
    Constantly the garden transfigured
    Daily the doll watched
        Daily envy grew
            Daily warmth radiated

    The doll was alive

    And one day the mirror fell
    Shattering the images away
    And the doll fell silent
        No longer existing
            No longer waiting

    For the doll was only a doll
    No longer with an ability to exist
    Outside what was set.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    SevenDeadlySins’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    And unto the Earth 0 05/15/2011
    A Doll 0 05/13/2011
    Alone 1 07/14/2009
    Where is happiness 0 07/14/2009
    To Better See 1 02/25/2009
    Is It Okay? 0 02/25/2009
    Why Are You Mad? 0 02/25/2009

    SevenDeadlySins’s Friends (2)

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