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In a house so old, with secrets untold, Lies a doll with a story, eerie and bold. Its name is Robert, a toy so strange, With a chilling aura, that can unsettle and change. Its glassy eyes, so piercing and bright, Hold a haunting gaze, in the dead of night. Its stitched-up grin, a sinister smirk, A mystery shrouded, in a sense of murk. Legend has it, it's cursed to the core, With tales of mischief, and much, much more. Whispers of whispers, heard in the dark, A presence unseen, but leaves its mark. Footsteps echoing, when no one is near, Objects moving, without cause, it's clear. A chill in the air, a feeling of dread, Robert the doll, a ghostly thread. Some say it's just a tale, a hoax, a ruse, But those who've encountered, know the truth they can't refuse. A doll with a past, a presence so real, Robert the haunted doll, an enigma to feel.
Sally the doll, with porcelain skin,
A relic of the past, a tale of sin.
Her eyes once bright, now hollow and black,
Her presence eerie, a haunting attack.
A doll so old, with secrets kept,
A history dark, that's not been swept.
They say she's cursed, a restless soul,
Trapped in a doll, with a story untold.
In the dead of night, she comes alive,
Her tiny footsteps, a ghostly drive.
Her dress rustles, as she moves around,
In an empty room, without a sound.
Objects misplaced, doors that creak,
A feeling of unease, that's hard to speak.
Sally the doll, a presence so strong,
A haunted mystery, that lingers on.
Some dare to touch, to look in her eyes,
But soon regret, as fear slowly ties.
For Sally the doll, with her haunted past,
Is a chilling reminder, that ghosts can last.
So beware of Sally, the haunted doll,
Her story a caution, to one and all.
She may seem innocent, with her porcelain face,
But her haunted presence, a chilling embrace.
