Porcelain Doll

A single porcelain doll with the gentle smile And a face of pure white - innocent and simple; Light shadow to the eyes and a faint blush, Relaxed with hands resting on her lap. Neatly combed back hair fashioned into a bun - A beautiful auburn washed out from the sun, With a few strands fallen loose, lining the face; To the placid eyes that tell of a time of joy. Placed on a shelf soon to be forgotten, In time, dust mutes the smile Any trace of color becomes faded; Ends of cloth tattered with caked-on memories. Each turn of the hour, another day passes Slowly yearning for the comfort of another; Every minute, another year Any chance slowly disappears and in a moment, all is lost, With every second, another turn of the century All passes ever so quickly with a blink of an eye.