I broke the doll almost on purpose
Trying to fit her into the toy tank
Determined to play my way
My own game not theirs
Broken dolls littered the playroom
Symbols of a girl who wasn’t
Broken dolls litter the promenade
Broken bodies strew the road
He broke them all on purpose
Because they do not play his game
Kim Whysall-Hammond trained as an astronomer and now works in IT (specifically data networking). She finds beauty and wonder in what others consider strange places. Although she’s been writing poetry since girlhood, she’s only recently started submitting. Her work is published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, Your One Phone Call, In Between Hangovers, Amaryllis, and Peacock Journal. She also shares poems at
https://thecheesesellerswife.wordpress.com/ [1] in a rather free fashion for an Englishwoman.
califragile.org 