Opened up your woodland scene
Mr Polly Pocket figurine
With you I would love to play
Hold your hand throughout the day
Moving through your clamshell case
Perfect, plastic, great escape
Upon your lips I place my own
Soft and warm they feel like home
But your home can’t belong to me
Poly isn’t the life I see
I play with one toy at a time
One I’ll call forever mine
So I must close your case back up
Like the cover of a book
For in the toy box you must stay
In hopes I’m ready some other day