BARBIE
A perfect pink mythology with a plastic point of view
A vision of photography with neon fuchsia hues
You’d think at the sight of her she has nothing to lose
But rip the seal and peel the tape, you’ll see it’s all a ruse
I wasn’t molded in a factory and poured into a shape
I wasn’t born in a tiny box with no way of escape
I live in a glitter-free world of problems and mistakes
At times I work so hard that I can hardly stay awake
Although I’m not a mannequin, a trophy or a prize
Nor do I have a dream house of a colossal size
I carry the wisdom of my ancestors behind my eyes
And watch the world of my internal kingdom rise
I wasn’t built to tolerate the pursuant male gaze
Or give away a piece of me for superficial praise
I color the entire world in a different kind of way
I spit my truth and spread my love each and every day
They watch me like a pack of wolves looking for a flaw
But they’re about to see I don’t conform to Barbie laws
I’m like a pack of cigarettes: so unfiltered and raw
I’m the fiercest force of nature that these people ever saw
No warning signs or safety nets, no logos on my skin
Just some scars to show the masses everywhere I’ve been
The plastic world can keep its crown cuz I don’t need to win
I glow wherever I seem to go, my light will never dim
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