Those perfect Barbie girls with stupid smiles,
Farrah Fawcett hair and spray tans for miles.
I'm not like the dancers, or like the jocks,
But I plead and cry to stay in my box.
My emotions tug, "let us out!", they cry
I plaster on a smile and say goodbye.
Farewell feelings, stay buried deep inside,
I want to keep my friends, my life, my pride.
And so lost am I, truly tucked away.
To not be deserted and left astray.
I'm like you, I'm like you, I tell myself
But I feel so out of place on this shelf.
The other barbies are cutesy and slim,
My eyes fill with tears, spilling at the brim.
So outward I break, yes, I know I'm odd
But not a doll! I'd rather be outlawed
Societies makes unrealistic rules,
But you're wonderful you, and you're not a fool.
Author Notes: Hey! so if you made it through all that cringieness, I'd really like some feedback! I don't write poetry that often so... Tell me how you liked it, please!