Alone, and still,
In a dress with fancy frills
Trapped in a glass display
Stared at, poked at, day by day.
Empty, soulless eyes, but they held no guile
Mouth forever shaped into the perfect smile
Her only use to be a toy for her peers
Alive, painfully aware, yet shows no tears
They think she's perfectly polite
An angel, a guiding light...
But sugar and spice
And everything nice
Hide venom and ice
A demon that bites
Something old, something new,
Your fancy doll is mocking you
Her smile hides fangs, to back off is wise
For that empty gaze will hypnotize.
Never speaks unless spoken to
And then every word she says seems true
Prim and proper, kept by herself
On highest display above everyone else
Easiest to play with, to keep you entertained
Is it just you, or does that smile seem strained?
But it can't be true, after all, dolls aren't real
Not a living person, so of course she cannot feel
Just remember dolls are fragile, hollow, empty
Underneath that porcelain skin is a danger you can't see.
But sugar and spice
And everything nice
Hide venom and ice
A demon that bites
Something old, something new,
Your fancy doll is mocking you
Her smile hides fangs, to back off is wise
For that empty gaze will hypnotize.
Beware, beware,
Her pretty eyes and silky hair
A wolf in the stalls
A ghost in the halls
A siren, a witch, a Jekyll and Hyde
Let her in once, and there she'll reside
In your mind, in your heart
She'll tear your trust apart
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down
To her trickery, lies, and demon's crown
Ashes to ashes; everyone's downfall
Is thanks to the pretender, the perfect doll.
YOU ARE READING
Under The Mask
PuisiUnder The Mask is a collection of different venting/ranting/reflective poems from different stages of my life. Possible TWs may include: Religious trauma, Suicide, and anything along those lines. Each poem is raw and from the heart, under the mask.
