Armies of Dolls Skies of Tears
Because it moved. Because it was unpredictable. Because so often it was dangerous. You won't share with other children. You make them watch you playing. You won't let them in. I can't bring them over. You hit them. You won't mix. You are not human. You were playing with the dolls in the corner, when the preschool rang. They told me to come and take a look at you. You were in the corner lining the dolls up. You were building a fortress of plastic faces. Lining the dolls up around you. No-one could get near that corner. No-one could touch those dolls. If they did you would hit them. You had your back to us. All the other children were singing. They were listening to the teacher. They were doing what they were told. They were eating their lunch. They were natural. You were building armies of selves. Because I didn't know them. Because I couldn't see them. Because I couldn't hear them. Because I couldn't touch them. But each time the sky rained, they were my tears. |
