Broken Doll

I was made with a smile on my plastic face
My beautiful hair curled and combed all in place
All dressed up and packaged sitting on the shelf
Dreaming of the joy I'd bring somebody else

I was chosen and accepted happily
Played with, adored, and shown off for my beauty
But I noticed the other toys with their judging eyes
Waiting, knowing that the newness always wears off and dies

Now I am nothing but a broken doll
Harshly played with; forgotten; survivor of the fall
What was bright has now become a scary dark place
But still there is a smile on my plastic face

You're never told the world could be so damaging to the young
They are stuck, so they take it out on their toys, one by one
How can you hurt something you say you love and protect
You're the monster causing a lifelong defect

Now I am nothing but a broken doll
Harshly played with; forgotten; survivor of the fall
What was bright has now become a scary dark place
But still there is a smile on my plastic face

It seems crazy when you can't reflect how you feel inside
Your beauty dulls, but there's a smile your face though something died
You don't belong anywhere and there is no real joy
You're reminded no one cares how you feel because you're just a fucking toy

Now I am nothing but a broken doll
Harshly played with; forgotten; survivor of the fall
What was bright has now become a scary dark place
But still there is a smile on my plastic face

---Lisa Sheehan 2016

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Published by

notfeeling40

I'm turning 40 in April 2017... So much seems to have happened and changed. I guess I am feeling I should have it figured out by 40, but does anyone every really have it all figured out?

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