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I am the doll that you used to love, The puppet that was played with before the child grew up. I am the one who was left on the floor, the one that was shut up behind the closet door. The one that was too hard to sleep with at night, the one that would be tugged at during a fight. But now that the child has grown, I am of no use to any one anymore. My style's outdated, my hairs falling out. My clothing is ripped and loose threads hang about. My joints aren't moving and my lids do not close, everything about me is left in the dust. The only thing that remains intact, is this golden halo in fact. It's pure as my heart and will always be, but I'm sorry to say, bunny, you're next after me.