I was a doll
Made of porcelain,
Painted brown
To match my skin.
I was pretty,
Small and sweet,
Perfectly groomed
From head to feet,
Always smiling,
Eyes alight,
Always told
Not to fight
Against the hands
That held me tight
Before they placed me
On my shelf at night.

And all the while
I would sit,
Never thinking
My shelf unfit.
For, after all,
I was a doll,
And not to question,
Lest I fall
From my seat,
Just out of reach,
Of the “horrors”
Of the world beneath.

There was a day
With no sun at all
When my mommy
Took me off the wall.
She left her

Little porcelain doll,
Big bright eyes,
Brown paint and all,
She left her
Little porcelain doll
On the floor
And I saw it all.

I saw the paint
I saw the hall
I saw my world
I saw it all,
And knew that I
Was just a doll.
I knew the rights
I knew the wrongs
I knew the lies
I knew the songs.
I cried all day
I cried all night
I cried ‘til morn
And did not fight
Against the hands
That held me tight
Before they placed me
On my shelf that night.

But still I knew
Of the world below,
Of the place
I had to go
To find myself,
It saddened me so
For the world I knew
Had to go.
Still I smiled
Down from my shelf,
While all the time
I knew myself
Able to give
My mommy a whirl
But I had to become
A real girl.

Suddenly I felt
The porcelain crack.
I turned my head,
Saw skin on my back
And knew my time
As a doll was done.
I wasn’t as perfect,
But ready to run
Away from the shelf
And down to the floor
Out of my room
And straight to the door.
As I ran I gave
A whoop and a twirl,
Knowing I’d give
My mommy a whirl
Because, after all,
I’m a real girl.