You must know,
So you shake the ball,
Hoping for some foresight,
Some validation,
But that little porthole offers little,
Only half-truths and vagueries,
There is noise within,
It emanates from the internals of the orb,
Malignant laughter,
Padlocks and chains,
Sloshing with answers unsaid,
Mockery in every movement,
It knows all,
Everything kept in those inky waters,
But it’ll never elaborate,
It enjoys the secrecy,
Many say the ball is a plaything,
But it easily toys with us.
I couldn’t say if it were real,
Or a dream,
But I found myself in a dollhouse,
Quaint but very off,
I fear no joy had touched this place,
The air reeked of uncertainty,
And cigarette butts,
Like some neglected dive,
The rooms had no essence of childish play,
Toy furniture covered in pale cloth,
Pink paint flaking off,
The floorboards seemed wet from tears,
Half-formed mannequins,
Cobwebs draped over like veils,
An array of barbie heads,
A miniature pushchair splattered in red,
Was I alone?
I couldn’t say for sure,
I felt wild eyes upon me,
Small figures dance in my periphery,
Skipping off into the aether,
A giggle,
My veins grow boreal,
Never had a child’s laugh chilled me so.
Turn the lever,
Like a rat in an experiment,
On this miniaturised casino,
Emblazoned with neon and cartoon nonsense,
Go on,
Just a feeble metal lever,
That’s all that stands between you and joy,
A shot of dopamine,
Contained in little plastic form,
Do it,
For your little treat,
A capsule toy or bottle cap figure,
So deposit your coinage,
Good cash after bad cash,
And turn the lever,
Do it.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Younglings of every ilk,
Step right up,
To our humble abode of trifles,
Our house of silly little playthings,
A prison of giggles and vivacity,
We’ve got a toy for every ill,
Teddies and rocket ships and broken bits,
Plastic soldiers all on parade,
Building sets and clowns and consumerism,
So walk our halls of fun and dead smiles,
Shiny eyes following you as you peruse,
Oh yes indeed,
You should see it at night,
These shelves writhe like a gaggle of eels,
Wood and plastic coming to life.
WorldofHarley 