by Nick Gisburne
They’re pleased to meet you. These are all my toys,
The dirty dolls, the smiling friends I find.
Discarded by their keepers, girls and boys,
I take the worst, unwanted, mocked, maligned.
I teach them little tricks, but some rebel.
They misbehave. They’re naughty. That’s okay.
They punish me to please me. I can tell.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
The older ones will show you what to do.
You’ll play, tonight, tomorrow, and again.
The least, the lowest, latest doll is you.
The most important players are the men.
Enjoy yourself, but, if you don’t, it’s fine.
You’re broken, and you’re dirty, and you’re mine.
