shutter-bug Here we sit, patiently waiting for your return. I am here with the dolls that you used to play with, so long ago. Occasionally I find the time to entertain them, because you often forget to. They understand that you are older now, and that you are very busy. Faithfully, we will wait for your return.

We become covered in blankets of dust, which keep us warm during the long winterís nights. Sometimes your dolls are blessed with your touch as you press on there faces to remove the chocking cover, but I sit here alone and without your touch. I gather no dust for I am only a memory, but I am still with you and I sit on your shelf.

When you open your window we love the fresh air, and sometimes, if weíre lucky, we can here the birds singing and the dogs barking and you playing out in the yard. We were your friends that you have now long forgotten, but we still remember you and enthralled in our memories, we wait. We are your toys, up high on your shelf. In the back we sit quiet and alone. We were your toys and I was your favorite.
pobodys nerfect awww This poem reminds me of "christmas toy",a movie about a toy that used to be the favourite of a little girl.

With the exception of baby toys that my mom gave away to charity,and some stuff that went to my nephews when they were younger,I kept alot of my toys from childhood. I could probably make a fair amount of money from the stuff I have but I just don't have the heart to sell it or give it away. I was always sort of hoping that one day I'd have a little girl of my own to pass it on to.
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