DOLLS

They stare at you through eyes of glass
And make you wonder what they see;
Can they think...do they feel,
Instead of porcelain…
Would they rather be made like me?

Rather than sit and stare all day,
Dressed in pretty dresses of taffeta and lace,
Would they rather wear blue jeans,
Have their hair in disarray
As they scrub and clean the place?

Do they fear one day they’ll break,
Their faces of glass seen shattered,
Bodies broken upon the floor,
To be loved and cared by you no more…
Their pretty dresses tattered?

If they do...can think, can feel,
I would tell them this…
There are some days I’d rather be you,
Just sit all day with nothing to do,
Stare into space while looking pretty,
Not a care in the world that I can see.

And if you think I cannot break…
Cannot break like you,
Then think again, my pretty dolly.