Broken Doll

On my own shelf,
So far back no one can see,
The doll with the torn dress
And the ripped seams.

Who bothers with a broken toy
When prettier ones abound?
And the child who used me sits
Newer friends in the round.

If you open my dress,
A small dark stitch you will see,
Where once a little red heart
Beating fast used to be.

I was thrown down, unwanted,
And so I walked away,
Back to my gray shelf,
And sat down in the shade.

So now here I am,
Alone, watching them all.
But soon enough they'll know
What it is to be a broken doll.