In my arms, I hold a box
With splinters on its sides
And those who see it cannot guess
The secret that it hides.
Far below its ancient lock
That keeps it closed and stern
Protrudes a silver winding key
That wishes for a turn.
Within the box that looks so scarred
There stands a little girl
Who sits among the silken blue
Before she spins and whirls.
Behind her stands a mirror
So she will always see
The audience that watches her
Is made of only me.
Now we'll wind the key around
I'll lift the unlocked lid
And listen to the melody
The box once tightly hid.
The lovely notes in minor scale
The clicking of the gears
A lullaby so smooth but sharp
Is flowing through my ears.
Dancer girl then springs to life
Upon her tiny toes
Twirling to a haunting song
With words she only knows.
When I shall return to here
Only time will tell
But for now, I'll close the lid
And bid my friend farewell.
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