by Ruth Cheeseman

Created on: September 18, 2009

BROKEN DOLLS

When, as a child, I, like a broken doll

Lay in whiskey pools and cigarette swirls

And blood streaked walls in a house of disarray.

When, as a girl, I, like a carousel

Spun through my years in ups and downs

With musical choruses of what tomorrow could bring.

When, as a teen, I, like a tender reed

Bruised at a boys hand and battered

By winds of internal change and great insecurity.

When, as a woman, I, like a dove

Peaceful and contented to the watchers eye

Yet, ever a lowly pigeon on the interior.

When, as a mother, I, like a lion

Protectively nurturing my offspring

Ready to devour any who would cause them harm

So that, they, as children

Never become broken dolls.

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