Snip, snip.

And the ribbon,

But a thread, maybe two,

Remains tightly grasping

The dangerously, dangling, soft piece cut.

The doll in the corner of your mind,

The sad, black eyes remember, do you?

When its whole life was you.

But still it sits in desperate hope.

The sad remains of what has been,

But yet others the same are patched

Given anew, not broken.

Your old doll, the toy

Who said only love.

Black button eyes, sad and alone.