the doll
in this city
vines crawl up the walls
hugging to the old stone bricks
like sloths to a tree that climb up large
marble pillars of what once used to be great
they remain standing in what once used to be the
biggest city mankind has ever created with stairs that
lead you down down down where no one’s gone in a while
you open the door and there’s dust on the floor and cobwebs on
the walls where drawings and portraits were hung up as if it was only
yesterday when the tragedy struck as if they were still alive but just in hiding
you pick up a doll that laid long forgotten and it’s a doll with black hair and brown
eyes made with buttons and suddenly this all feels so familiar like a voice that’s always
been by your side and you pitied those who lived here but you quickly began to realize that;
it was your doll.