I am black porcelain
A vaguely smiling doll
With much alive, dark brown eyes,
Endless pools of sorrow
I am made for sitting pretty
Not to move, not to speak
Here for you, not for me
How lovely am I,
Speaking words that you gave me?
How lovely am I,
Saying things that you like?
How lovely am I,
Moving as you would have me to,
Going where you would take me?
On the other side of life-like blinking eyes
I wish for you to see perfection
But, it’s too late
One wrong move too many
Left me broken, so broken
Not all I am cracked up to be