I came across a voodoo doll high in the attic;
She was lifted in aerial suspension and really quite frantic.
Her eyes were black, her lips gasped an effluvium;
I stood still in awe by this anomalous situation.
A vow then emerged, something I wish I could recant;
A flicker of light, in those dim eyes showed chance.
I had to rescue her and restore this odd life;
Drawing from my pocket I produced shears, as sharp as a knife.
Slashing and whirling she came spinning down;
Free from the bindings that kept her off ground.
Sleeping now soundly like a child in a bassinet;
Looking at this creature I suddenly felt a whisper of regret.
Lifting my shirt to find a suture, still raw;
Tugging on it gently, I realized it – no I! – was filled with straw.
No more could I scream, I could hardly open my mouth;
My body became limp and my arms desperately flailed about.
Here I now hang, all alone, waiting to be discovered;
By some new poor soul who would trade his life for another.