The Manikin
There's a manikin in my window, that follows me where ever I go, I can't seem to shake
her, she's like my six o'clock shadow. But she seems to be everything I am, but more
refined and more polished.
No belly, Nice but, in creditable looks, wears a size zero in jeans, has the face of the
american dream, she's what the public adores and admires, this is what society deems
nessacary to be beautiful.
I'm 5'10 a number of pounds over weight, more gut than butt, decent in what society sees
as good looks.
They say I'm no J-lo, meaning my body should not be seen in public,
No media coverage,
Not front page material,
No music video,
That I should grow my hair, get cosmetic surgery and wear all this makeup and then I may
be deemed as pretty.
The question I have to ask myself is this really me?
Artificial flavoring, unessary calories, a false sense of self that can provide material
wealth?
No- this is societies ideology. A life time of fame filled with unconscience shame, trade
in my dignity and what makes me me, for uncertain romances, adulterated chances, so the
world can love my name. So people can compare me to you and you. And then put more of
strain on todays struggling youth.
There' a manikin in my window that follows me where ever I go, I can't seem to shake her
she's like my six o'clock shadow.
Copyright © Tamika Starks | Year Posted 2005
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