Porcilen fingers,
Creme bru le skin,
Curled brown hair rests upon her shoulders,
A green dress wrapped around her,
Small gold shoes carefully on her feet,
Her bright pink lipstick on the other ones,
right on their cheeks, smudged and smeared,
A small gold tiara shimmers and shines,
She's always looking up,
She stands still, only moving to comb her hair,
She puts on her make-up when I am out,
Her eyes so green, just as star moss, but there's always a sparkle in them,
Her hands to her sides, she stands motionless,
SHe holds a wilted yellow flower,
But still she smiles, not showing her teeth,
Never blinking, always sinking,
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