What a strange old doll you are!

Every time I see you

You seem just a tad different

I could’ve sworn

Your hair was slightly less disheveled

When I saw you hours before

Before that, it seemed

Your dress had a tiny stain

I don’t remember seeing earlier

Granted, I don’t stare you down

I haven’t catalogued your many traits

Surely, I must be imagining things

I thought your right hand was slightly raised

When I placed you on the shelf

But now it appears firmly in your lap

Your left eye looks wide open

When I thought it was slightly closed

What an odd oversight!