23 July 2012
A little wooden ragdoll: Her fingers made of pegs, With worn-out grooves and lines of use, From her rope-hair to her legs.
Rejected by the other toys, Her fingers hard to use; With clumsiness and buttered hands, Her face is just a ruse.
Little wooden ragdoll, Her finger-pegs a drag, They're just no use, they never were, And all her muscles sag.
'I wish I wasn't peg-made, I wish my hands were real.' Inside this wooden ragdoll, There lies a heart of steel.
Peg Hands. • Opuss № I