The doll my mother bought for me,
Has the same hair as mine,
Her face is shaped so perfectly,
The boys would fall in line.
I could never smile so sweetly,
Or make my eyes that large,
But makeup done discreetly,
Could help me meet the marge.
The makeup's not enough,
I need a little more,
To become the diamond in the rough
Without a single flaw.
But I'm far from finished yet,
My figure isn't great,
To become so perfect
I'll need to lose some weight.
The teachers asked some questions,
About why I am so thin.
They took me out of lessons,
To observe the state I'm in.
"Alexandra wipe that makeup off
It's doing you no good".
At their appearances I'd scoff
They'd never understood.
The magazines now told me,
My clothes were out of date.
We're running out of money,
So mum said I should wait.
I cried out for my best friend, Moll,
With a pathetic whine,
So my mother gave me back my doll,
For I am only nine.
