September 18, 2013

The Doll

There she sits, way up on her shelf
Please do not touch that fragile self

Although a doll she may seem to be
She once was as real as you or me

Her shining locks so pale and shining
Made that way from too much dying

Long lashes surrounding eyes bright
Mascara-dark frame for contacts’ light

Years of blush made her cheeks too red
Thick ‘natural’ look over skin so dead

After several operations quite drastic
Her face so smooth it looks like plastic

The silicone inserts put inside her chest
Gave a strange roundness to each breast

Her body nipped, tucked and cut
Subtracted cellulite, added butt

Her long legs waxed to a high sheen
Toes crammed into high heels mean

What once was quite real is now all fake
Don't touch her or she just might break

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