What she replied

His hands on her face
The face he delicately painted and caressed
Caressed with care and colored with life
Life she wanted and life he gave
He gave her beauty and love
But love she can’t feel; she’s but a doll
A doll made out of porcelain but
A porcelain doll that sheds tears
Tears in her heart for she is not real
Yet real are the feelings she hides inside
Inside where she loves but cannot she cannot move
Move to touch her creator’s hands
The hands that slowly reach out to her
Reach out and take her out of her shelf
A shelf for her, the only place for a doll like her