Porcelain Doll

A single fallen glance
Her eyes fall to the floor
Words cannot be spoken
They are of little use anymore

Her face is desolate
As her heart turns to ice
She was ignorantly blissful
In thinking the world was nice

She looks up to you
Her eyes hollow and bleak
It is only now you see
That she has grown far too weak

She can no longer hear
The words of which you say
She continues to grow deaf
With every passing day

You catch her gaze again
You no longer can forestall
The fate she has placed in her hands
She became a lifeless doll

You put her on the shelf
It is there she will lie
You close her sullen eyes
And wish her a soft goodnight

She gathers dust today
No longer put to use
The only worth she has
Is being someone's muse
A petty, harmless ruse

The thought pattern behind this poem is very stream-of-consciousness. I had an original idea behind it, but that warped and twisted as I continued to write. The feelings behind it come from a lack of self-worth that seems to have been afflicting me as of late. Leave a review if you see fit—I have not written a poem in a while, and I would like to know if I am still doing a good job. Thank you.