I visited the doll factory today--
The one called the MEDIA,
Though I usually keep it at bay.
Society is frequently consumed
By them all,
But just remember:
Don’t you dare fall.

Every doll looks the same,
Porcelain, white, and
Oh-so mundane.
Plastic faces stare at me through
Sallow eyes.
Merely caricatures of
Their former selves;
Seized by stolen lies.

They tell me this is beautiful,
“Be thin, be pretty--be perfect.”
But this is the ultimate test.
Do I want to be myself, or
Molded like all of the rest?

I may have battled my own
Insecurities.
Perpetual thoughts of
Lesser degrees.
But when I visited the
Doll factory today,
I wanted nothing else
But to be Myself.