Original
By Zara N
Published 15 September 2015
It may not be much but it is to me,
My precious Russian doll staring right at me,
Its glaring black eyes,
With its red pursed lips,
The wood is as thick as a wooden ship,
Patterns and stripes all round its hips.
Dips of red, dots of blue,
It's mine and I like it more than you do.