For life we gather toys,
Some for tears and some for joys
What sadness grips us when they're lost
But we'll find another ere they're tossed
Oh laugher and smiles
Tickle me pink with such delight
what whispered secrets find our dolls
Where do they lay when gems sparkle in the light?
Unfeeling painted faces,
glassy eyes to the world,
and the weather wears on,
cool embrace of the earth grants these no respite.
Sweet pretty why did your dress tear?
Where is the comb for your long golden hair?
Dear doll your black lined eyes do run,
what moisture clung here in your grave
but no words,
and no smiles,
save for those that are carved so unchangeable
- can't you go play too?

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Aequitas, in the year 533 AD.