Little Lost Orphan

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Little Lost Orphan

To most she was not pretty,
To most she was just a little scary,
But to me she was the most beautiful
Of all the dolls sitting on the shelf so weary.
Her dress was made of burlap,
Her hair blond and stringy,
She held out one hand palm up,
Pleading for one soul to help.
Her eyes were larger than life
With a delicate teardrop
Dropping down her cheek.
I saw her there in that store,
I saw in her me so lonely,
A little girl lost begging for one
That would take her hand
And take her home.
Dry her tears, and hold her close.
To most she was not pretty,
To most she was a little scary,
To Me, Little Lost Orphan was me.

~CWylde © 2015

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