Little wooden figure, painted smile so wide
Nestled deep inside, another layer hides
With each new shell, a story unfolds
Echoes of the young
Whispers of the old
Layers of me, like a matrioska set
Growing wide, growing tall, but we often forget
The smallest dolls, deep within our core
Hold the purest parts of us, from the days of yore
As years add layers, complexities grow
Larger shells painted with the life we show
Yet beneath the surface, where the quiet ones dwell
Lie our truest selves, with stories to tell
Underneath the varnish, beneath the painted guise
The smallest matryoshka silently cries
Yearning for the light, craving to be seen
For she is where our journey begins, pure and serene
Layers of me, like a matrioska set
Growing wide, growing tall, but we often forget
The smallest dolls, deep within our core
Hold the purest parts of us, from the days of yore
Layers of me, like a matrioska set
Growing wide, growing tall, but we often forget
The smallest dolls, deep within our core
Hold the purest parts of us, from the days of yore
So let's peel back the layers, one by one
Reveal the hearts we've hidden from the sun
For in the smallest spaces, the truest tales are spun
In the layers of me, where we all are one