Dolls

K Morris Poet's avatarK Morris - Poet

He collected dolls both black and white.

Twas his pain and his delight,

To hold them tight at night.

Few words where said,

As they lay upon his bed

With eyes cold and dead.

He touched their skin so real,

Though love they could not feel.

One doll his heart did steal,

But her passion was unreal.

His soul it turned to steel,

No longer could he feel.

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