Lydia was an only child,
Lonely and filled with curiosity and questions;
About the world and more.
Mum’s gone to work today,
Dad is with the maid singing hymns behind closed doors;
Bored and alone,
She remembered;
Papa said everything was made by God.
She wondered how God created the man, woman, animals and her doll.
Tits and bits,
Papa said he was made from dust;
She checked her doll,
It was just wool and cloth;
Papa doesn’t lie,
She looks at Parish;
Their dog;
Is he made of wool?
She pondered.
Eeek, blood and stuff I don’t understand,
Lydia said after checking Parish;
Father doesn’t lie,
But there’s no dust anywhere;
Scolds and beatings yesterday;
They said something is wrong with me.
She doesn’t understand, I just wanted to see what was inside.
She said,
With a deep sigh, Lydia slept off.
Papa and Mama are nowhere to be found today,
Just her and the maid again;
Bored and alone,
Maybe it is just only humans with the dust.
Just a nick,
I won’t cut deep;
I just want to see,
What’s deep within;
She thought,
There the maid was; asleep with a snore,
A sigh of relief,
No one to stall;
She cut deep and long,
Disappointed and hurt;
It was all blood,
Papa lied, there is no dust.
Dizzy and weak, Lydia was gone.
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