The Porcelain Doll

Faded like forgotten dreams
She looks down into a box of memories
Stories that were locked away
In cold, smooth porcelain.

Bows that forever tie me
To my family and the
Happy times we’ve shared.

She sits on my chest of drawers
Whispering stories of the past
And filling my head with memories
That I could not forget.

She is a messenger of my dreams
Who sings through the night
Telling stories from across the world
And in the darkness she will forever be my light.