The Dresden Dolls

by battlebornxx

A poem that is in Chris's point of view of things that go on while the four of them are locked away in the attic. Short and bittersweet!

A/N: O.M.G! Have you guys saw the new Flowers in the Attic trailer?! (If you didn't know that they are releasing a movie from Lifetime, THEY ARE!) You can watch it on Youtube, and they have a longer trailer (Thank God!) on the Lifetime website :)! I'm SO excited! They picked the perfect Chris, I think! Cathy looks like she'll do good, and definitely the Grandmother and Mom! They said it's going to be JUST like the book! So yay, Chris and Cathy! AND I have GREATER news! V.C Andrews' ghost writer is writing ANOTHER book of the Dollanganger series! It's about a little girl, who's father is a construction worker picking up the remains of Foxworth Hall (it burned in p.o.t.w), and the little girl finds a journal! And guess who's journal it is? It's Chris's! The brother's! It's going to be HIS whole point of view from the story and I CAN'T WAIT! It's official too, not a rumor! Message me and I'll send you the link! :D Well, I hope you like this! I didn't really know what to write, and I'm not that great at poetry so yeah lol. Sorry for some mistakes, I just want to post something! This is also in Chris's point of view. So it would be as if he wrote the poem himself! Haha! Reviews make my day! So don't forget to review! :) Hope you all enjoy! xx

If I could live to be 100

I will never forget that attic.

With the dancing doll,

the doctor doll,

the chirpy doll,

and the musical doll.

The dancing doll danced and danced

until her toes bled.

The doctor doll studied and studied

until the whips on his back grew bloody.

The chirpy doll chirped and chirped

until she wasn't a very loud little bird anymore.

The musical doll sang away

until he watched the present fade.

The dresden dolls we once were;

with us all shiny and bright.

Now, all of us pray that each one of them will be alright.

The dancing doll named Cathy;

and I, the doctor doll named Chris.

No one would quite recall a love, quite like this.

For I watched the dancing doll in the attic.

Until I became tromatic.

She spun and spun and spun away;

all the way into another day.

And when the other days came,

the doctor doll started to kiss the dancing doll.

The doctor doll started to dream of the dancing doll.

Dreaming of her spinning and spinning and spinning away;

into another day.

And hopefully with that other day,

"The Grandfather has died! Come downstairs and see our fortune!" Our Momma would say.