Monday, July 2, 2007

"Forlorn Mannequin"

Hours ago it turned to night
My wake from the daylight slumber
In a warehouse of mannequins
For I am just a number
Dust gathers about my feet
I look into the dim light
That filters in from the street
Plastic skins surround me
My thoughts confound me
My legs will not allow
Escape from this place
Amongst the mannequin race
Of which I belong
I want to sing but cannot speak
I am beautiful but never kissed
Except once I was brushed up against
Gentle human warmth that is remembered
For a brief moment I was touched
Although far from a caress
As he looked back at me momentarily
Before leaving the silent room
Where I sit amongst the others in my gloom

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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