You dress me up and pull my strings.
I have to look perfect for your guests.
No hair left untuck,
Not a stain in sight,
Could cut some weight off
But there’s just no time now.
The guests are here!
I’m the perfect doll to be played with now;
I’m the smartest,
I work the hardest,
No, sadly, I’m not the prettiest.
But it’ll have to do.
You’ll show me off and declare,
I’m the best doll here.
Then I’ll be discarded once more.
Left to hear comments by your door.
I wasn’t smart enough,
I don’t bust my ass enough,
And I’m still not good enough.
Yet once a year when we celebrate me,
It’s still somehow about you.
The once in a lifetime feeling,
Somehow comes back to you.
I don’t invite family.
I don’t invite your guests.
I invite those who have been telling me
I’m good enough and will grow.
They patched me up,
Build me up,
And I learn to walk on my own.
Every year, I stray further and further away
From the girl who loved to toy with me.
I follow the long road
To the girl who will always adore me.
Heather Marie 