Annie Dew.

I could not fathom what I’d seen
In that little doll of she.
So white
With big round golden eyes.
A mystifying haunting held in her
Lifeless body,
Not evident to a soul, nobody.
Nobody but me.
I snuck into my sister’s room,
To catch a peak of her little “Annie Dew.”
The doll with a drive
To kill and hide.
I opened the door as
A creaky symphony continued to endure.
My heart was pounding, my mind ablaze,
Of different possibilities for Annie to take my life away.
The doll with a drive
To kill and hide.
I took the figure
From under my little sister.
She stared back at me with those menacing eyes.
Gold as the lining of El Dorado’s buildings of lies.
Her polka dotted dress was carefully sewed,
Too careful to perfection for my mind to unfold.
She is demonic, she wants to kill,
I must destroy her before the morning rooster’s shrill.
I threw her to the raging bulldog, out in the front yard,
Easy as throwing an Ace of Spades card.
Like an Ace, she floated in the air,
Her skin still so white and fair.
The animal threw itself above,
To grab her with a big gruff.
Ripping her to shreds,
The demonic Annie Dew is now dead.