As I pass by the staircase,
I see my sister's broken doll,
limbs apart, tangled hair,
and the dirty frock.
I feel something in her
that I could identify with,
I start to feel like a broken doll,
shattered in countless pieces,
in a world where care does not exist,
and empathy is far far away,
people run after what they want,
and walk over others.
As night approaches,
I lie supine on my bed,
eyes on the ceiling,
tears trickle down from the sides,
amidst my broken dreams,
I think of what I ask for,
and what I get,
I am a broken doll.
