The broken doll

They gave me a small watch on Xmas Day
But with a watch an eightyear old can’t play
I envied both my sisters theirnew dolls
As on the old settee the dolls were lulled
I stood there uncomprehending and alone
Had I reached unknown a real milestone?
Then my sister lent me one of hers
I broke that little head upon my chair
I was holding her with all my tenderness
Scarcely breathing in my velvet dress
I sat down slow to rock my babe awhile
The horror of her cracking head was vile
Now I play with numbers and with words
Xmas is a problem to be shared

The reason was my Dad was dying.He wanted to give my older brothers and me
watches as he would not be here when we were 21.The watch was a traditional
gift then.

I welcome comments and criticism

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