Not AliveShe is not alive, just pretends to live...partially, out of the habit,partially, because once she really desired to be. Still, she doesn't breathe,doesn't blink and sits still,almost like a dead bird in the cage,on her windowsill. Alone.And if someone would look at her long enough,they would say: a pretty doll, nothing more. She is not alive, but plays the roleand day after day prolongstaking the last bow, saying fare thee well...Instead she remains, a puppet...Pretty puppet, its strings moved by the skeleton fingers.Cause even though she lingers, she is not alive...and she wasn't so, for a long, long time.