I see you for what you are paper doll,
Your doll house is perfection.
Never a stain or a mess to be seen,
Biggest size TV, shiniest appliances,
I feel as though I am in a Museum.
Mom is not who she seems paper doll,
She takes that which she cannot make for herself.
Hair always did, always in a trendy ensemble,
Miss congeniality they say, always with a story,
The boisterous loud laughter quiets the troubled soul within.
Don’t be too hard on mom, paper doll.
Dad isn’t the saint he seems.
I’ve seen him around town,
Two shadows behind a curtain,
Sultry voices and girlish giggles.
All eyes turn to you paper doll,
They all bet on you,
How far does the apple fall from the tree?
I see you paper doll,
Struggling to break free.
You give them something new to talk about in academia,
But you are shallow and cold within.
When all is said and done,
I hope that love of designers,
Doesn’t leave you with the wrong brand.