The efficient, black-haired beauty
      With the cold, unyielding smile,
      A class one section leader,
      Was herself a lonely child.

      In some act of childish whimsy
      Selfish as most children dare,
      She had struggled with her sister,
      Pushed her down the house's stairs.

      Looking at her older sister
      Lying crumpled down below,
      Madeline hugged the doll against her
      Got her wish so long ago.

      But her sister wasn't moving,
      Didn't rise to go to bed.
      Madeline hugged the dolly closer,
      "It's no fun when you play dead."

      Mother cried a lot each morning,
      Cried at night, as she recalled.
      Sister didn't come to dinner.
      Sister didn't come at all.

      All the adults whispered round her.
      No one came to pat her head.
      No one came to give her comfort.
      Sent her off to school instead.

      Years went by and Madeline grew up
      Feeling guilty all her life,
      Wouldn't show her desperation,
      Made instead a sacrifice.

      Now she toils at Section's bidding,
      Hiding things she cannot show,
      Of the guilt that lives within her,
      From a game so long ago.

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