Daughter Of A Mannequin

She’s perfect in her design.

Her wires and colors will one day align.

Until then, she’ll pluck a set of tender strings.

Tune after tune, she’ll sing about everything.

On this day, we commend her first year of grace.

She sits with wide eyes, observing images of space.

Joy bounds about, filling the room with fire.

Her mind stays steady, unbeknownst to children so dire.

Welcome to her home.

You can find her brushing hair with a lovely comb.

But first, witness her lifeless body covered in grime.

I’d say you’ve arrived just in time.