A paragon of anthropological discovery,
I cringe myself to sleep
remembering days gone by
when I was the apple of my mother's eye.

My Ashy Carrion -- was once full of life
My jubilant cries made butterflies smile.

But now I lie preserved like blue berry jam -- famous yet lonely.
Five years of innocent play
can't compare to the splendour of this gloomy closet,
Though, i wonder what became of my older brother...

(5 yr old child mummy,.)Pitt Rivers collection , England)

(I wrote this couple of years ago. Our assignment was to pick an object from the collection and tell a fictional story from its perspective. Can you tell my anti-colonial sentiment seeped in, just a tad bit.)