Dollhouse

What happens behind closed doors

The windows so perfect
The door bright red
Lights flickering entice the curiosity
You peek inside
Excitement chills your spine
A glimpse of the tiny figures within
Small beds hold tiny children
A father figure smiles from his study
A woman folding clothes upstairs
Laughter and humming fill the walls
Dare you walk around
Slowly your steps echo
Reality sets
The children sleep
Tears dried on once rosey cheeks
The father grins behind his screen
Engulfed in a world of darkness
The mother sobs as she folds
Packing like she does every other week
Painted smiles faded