No one seems

To notice me

The old broken doll

On the back of the shelf

On the back wall

Of the antique shop

People come in

With the laughter

Of the bell

Sometimes a girl

Will see me

And want me

To be her own

But her mother says

No look at her frayed hair

And broken hand

So I am left here


But what no one

Seems to see

Is that my frayed hair

And my broken hand

Only shows

That I have been loved