I’m looking at my new dollhouse.
Have you seen a lovelier one?
So white and clean and beautiful.
Sometimes looking at it brings tears in my -suddenly- blue eyes.

I didn’t really ask for it and maybe that’s the reason
why they gave it to me so eagerly.
Now everyone feels obliged to say
they’re happy for me indeed.

Even my image in the mirror is smiling to the gift,
for pain has no reflection.
Only the crow standing sometimes at my window,
the one that looks at me and sees enough,
says ‘you liar!’ and then it goes.

Shylar F.H.