In our small world of dolls
Our small hands
Our unrespected thoughts
Our sculpted bodies
Are you perhaps a princess?
With pampered skin, pricless items
Hidden life, forbidden friendship
But physical beauty all the same
Are you perhaps a warrior?
Who never backs down
Never gives up
Will fight to the end of days
And never is seen at fault
But is never given the respect, kindness
Or thanks she deserves
Are you perhaps a dreamer?
Whose feelings are kept a secret
Who can't make up her mind
Who sits by herself at lunch
But creates works of beauty
From nacho statues to unpublished sagas
Are you perhaps an inquirer?
Without a religion
Without a race
Without a goal in mind
Thinking out every step
And letting it all fold out before you,
In your own way
In rows and folds, in threads and cloth
Life is your red carpet
You're definately one of a kind
But is always left behind
And whose opinions are never bothered with
Are you perhaps a child?
Who brings smiles to all faces
But brings pokes and pinches,
To once smooth skin
Who can lighten up a day
Complete any mother or fathers life
But is never taken seriously
Are you perhaps a slave?
Captured for faults not caused by you
Tears as your pillowcase
A life you did not choose
Parents are gone
Friends are traitors
But you are the respected, the strongest one
All dolls have 2 sides
Good cop, bad cop
If you put them all together
A replica of what life should be
Is then created
We are all a princess,
A warrior,
A dreamer,
An inquirer,
A child,
A slave.
All we simply have to do is
Stop
Having our small hands;
Build a world of our own, and make all things fair
Have a say in what we can and cannot do
Stop
Having unrespected thoughts;
Have our voices heard, our ideas put to plan
Stomp on the so-called "men"
Stop
Having sculpted bodies;
Be our own person
Not what the "men" desire, anymore
All of us, a priceless doll
Which no ordinary ken can pick up off the shelf