Tiara

I know of a doll. We call her Tiara. I call her friend.She doesn't call.She has friends, a few of them who always let her sit at the shiniest chair at a tea party. They don't really care for her, but are still drawn to her.Before you feel bad for our Tiara... halt, stop, cease and desist.She's good at painting pictures that people like to see.She stands on a bench of morality and resides on the highest floor of the doll-house. Still I know she is alone. May be she deserves to be.She's cold and manipulative and everyone is aware.Still those that have stood by and watched her be ,haven't left her side.Dolls aren't alive because they don't have the ability to feel or hurt.This doll then is no different.She sits on the rocking chair u leave her on.She smiles , keeping her cold gaze upon u.Not caring about your woes or troubles.As long as it doesn't affect her best interests, she will not stir.You open up to her with the hope that her face will soften.Nay!. It's still the same.You feel bad and you ponder upon your beliefs.Growing up ..you have always heard and believed that a doll is a child's best friend, a companion of sorts. You wonder then about Tiara and her motives. You stare at her hoping for her to yield and open up...but you end up hitting a brick wall.You hurt, she smiles. You cry, she smiles.You sigh, she smiles.You mummer to yourself and wonder about the material that was used to make this cold being.You wonder about her creation.Who then was responsible for not having sowed a heart into her? Who then thought that it would be funny to create a heartless doll? A doll it seems is a likeness to a person, a smaller replica.Can u imagine a person without a heart?... I can.

We call her Tiara...