bri.under

Dollhouse .

There’s a dollhouse

A big dollhouse

It’s where we live

Our world, our dollhouse

 

But who is the little girl

Who plays with us

Tells us what to do

And where to go

 

She’s there

She’s somewhere

Deep inside

You don’t know her

 

She’s a stranger

But she knows us

She created us

She owns us

 

How might we escape her?

You may be asking

The truth is

You can’t

 

We can’t

 

She will always be there

Telling you what to do

And where to go

And you have to listen

 

The thing is

You can’t run away

From what’s inside of you

Until you die

 

So you have no other choice

But to listen

To the little girl

Who owns us

 

All of us.

Forever.

 

Comments1

  • Theta the scholar

    Welcome to MPS I hope you like your stay as much as i liked your poem. Greatly written I don't know who the little girl is, is it god, mother nature mother theresa, or maybe even our moms??? Who knows who cares its still a greatly written peice of work. Keep up the splendid work and welcome.
    - T



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.