Paper Doll

A beautiful doll house I built with you,
With perception panes and filter grills,
The curtains of protection and a floor of warmth,
And a bed of paper that pricks all night long;

The hundreds and thousands you cuddle and sleep,
The jingling sound that makes me weak;

I wake up with tears of metal coins,
You bank them all, an act of purloins;

I crumble and cry, wet than dry,
You look after the doll house, ignoring a sigh;

The paper doll tears apart, up in the sky like an art,
You run behind the paper doll, she sweeps through the wind, never to recall;

The empty doll house will haunt you than, all the paper invested will make you bend,
You shall never rise up again, as the paper doll won’t be around in your bitter end.