Plastic

A poem

We're all just little sad dolls

trying to find a thrill

so scared of the chill

deep in our bones

all marching like clones

inside we're going mad

while they tell us we're bad

struggling to break free

each crying our own plea

dancing in a broken waltz

the pictures on the wall are false

just like the masks we put on

we're all our own con

shaking from the many falls

looking upon that dirty road

head hurting from trying to figure out the code

to be happy and free

just like we've always ought to be

we still march along side

for what else can we do

other than abide

we're drowning underwater

but we still have breath

we're running on a treadmill

waiting for it to break

ignoring the ache

that runs through our body

straining to break the line

just wishing for a sign

our plastic hands wipe plastic eyes

starting to forget the prize

a heart so broken

it's woes unspoken

put into a jar of glass

just trying to make the pain pass