Mannequins

My hands are bleeding
My face is dirty
My clothes are rags
This is my reality

Talking to myself in third person
She, her, them
What's with me?
I want to be her too

Walking down the street 
Looking at myself from outside mirror 
I'm different from those stick thin mannequins
I'm broke, but I want to be that mannequin

Little black dress 
Sophisticated pearl necklace
And some bright lipsticks
I will feel like I'm on top of the world

Seasons will pass 
Those mannequin change more clothes than me
I want to be that mannequin
Those beautiful mannequin

Touched my face
I looked back to my reflection
Got me realized 
That I'm back to my reality
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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