The toys are angry |
“You wished we’d speak to you one day,” The doll whispers with her china voice, All chipped as she turns to me to say, “It’s not like you really have a choice “We’re going to say what we want right now. You’re not to say anything ‘til we’re done. And once we’ve told you who, when and how Then we’ll being having us some fun. I’m sorry if we’ve given you a fright, But you went too far, pushed too hard, When you blew up Barbie just last night – Yes, you, you snivelling lump of human lard.” Then staring at me with a needle to my head, The pin cushion lady raises her point arms high “By all rights I should be dead. Why did you do this to me? Please? Say why?!” Then a melted soldier, boiled and bent, Limps out from underneath a chair, “All I needed was a medical tent, You could have put one up anywhere!” “Same here!” Out hobbles the rest of them, Arms missing, mangled legs and faces melted, “We would have been your most loyal men! Instead we are your army of the jilted!” I whimper, wondering why I never knew, As more crawl out to laugh and jeer, That toys are as alive as me or you Or that it’s possible to teach them how to sneer. “Please stop!” I cry. Doll refuses with a smile, She lets each broken plaything state my crime, And I slowly realise that all the while That no excuse could defend those actions of mine And so I offered up myself as penance And Doll’s cracked face seemed to split In a grin and then in the echoing silence They took me apart bit by bit When they were done no body remained who could a crime commit. And that was all the sum of it. |