Barbie Blues

Four years old -- my eyes open up wide

Staring back at me is she

With her makeup and nail polish applied

I could not touch her so I cried

 

I see her at school -- in class -- the next day

We become friends as she and I play

My peers stare and compare

They bully me for the attributes we do not share

 

When I go home to cry in my bed

My mother picks me up and and holds me instead

My skin is black and Barbie's white

I would not look at myself in the mirror just to spite

 

I hear that I'm beautiful

From my family I'm told

When I go to school -- I do not think so

My peers' opinions mattered to me more -- ya know?

 

My one friend, she never talked about me

She always smiled ever so gracefully

So maybe it's not Barbie's fault, you see?

Cause Barbie was my friend

Through all the insults, she remained with me until the end

 

So maybe it's not Barbie cause she let me feel flawless

Alongside she

It wasn't Barbie that had the problem

It was society.

This poem is about: 
Me

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