Melancholy of the Porcelain doll

From the ashes, she was made... Mixed with dust and mud, moulded into a beautiful doll Smeared with the prettiest and brightest colours of all This is the melancholy of the Porcelain doll... Everyday she hears the laughter of the children which made her feel alive, But one day they grew up and never wanted to play with her again How she ended up in the loneliest place without solace This is the melancholy of the Porcelain doll, The one whom nobody cares about at all...