Porcelian Doll
A girl walks the streets
A porcelain doll of the world
Dressed to meet today's standards
But as hollow as a log
Ivory skin as pale as the moon
A cascade of black hair
A figure every girl envies every guy wants
Blue eyes the window to the soul she doesn't have
An ice cold heart
Unmeltable to any fire
Unfeeling, unwanting, apathetic
She knows not who she is
A sleeping beauty with eyes closed shut
As she slides through life
Unaware of what happens around her
Scenes pass before her eyes
Not comprehended by her mind
The fairytale life, is the life she leads
She has money, the looks, the guy
A 4.0 GPA
She has it all
Yet every night she cries herself to sleep
Alone once again like she always was
Nothing inside
Nothing to hold to
She secretly wishes she was someone else
But the next morning the sunrises again
Whether she wants it or not
Once again she becomes the puppet on the strings
Strings pulled by an unseen force
Nothing more than a pawn to the world
To be used and cast aside
Worthless in their eyes
But for now they play their game
She's thirty-five
has the American Dream
But still as dry as the Sahara
A husband, two kids, a great job
All the way down to the white picket fence
Though she's searching for the truth
A ride home on a rainy day
A dark and stormy night
She can't see past her headlights
But she has a feeling it will be alright
A sense of calm she never had
Seemed to cover her
As a shining light seemed to come closer
Blurred by the water trailing down the front window
A crash
A boom
A fire burning brightly
As a single star seemed to fade from the world
The World got sick of it's game
And threw her away
Another soul lost to the Darkness
Simply marked by a single stone
A lone tombstone stands
A name scribbled upon it.
Mourners come Mourners go
Soon enough the grave is forgotten
Over ran by grass growing around
A name is no longer seen
A forgotten grave
Stands against time and weather
Just to remember another pawn of the World
A mannequin of today.
A porcelain doll of the world
Dressed to meet today's standards
But as hollow as a log
Ivory skin as pale as the moon
A cascade of black hair
A figure every girl envies every guy wants
Blue eyes the window to the soul she doesn't have
An ice cold heart
Unmeltable to any fire
Unfeeling, unwanting, apathetic
She knows not who she is
A sleeping beauty with eyes closed shut
As she slides through life
Unaware of what happens around her
Scenes pass before her eyes
Not comprehended by her mind
The fairytale life, is the life she leads
She has money, the looks, the guy
A 4.0 GPA
She has it all
Yet every night she cries herself to sleep
Alone once again like she always was
Nothing inside
Nothing to hold to
She secretly wishes she was someone else
But the next morning the sunrises again
Whether she wants it or not
Once again she becomes the puppet on the strings
Strings pulled by an unseen force
Nothing more than a pawn to the world
To be used and cast aside
Worthless in their eyes
But for now they play their game
She's thirty-five
has the American Dream
But still as dry as the Sahara
A husband, two kids, a great job
All the way down to the white picket fence
Though she's searching for the truth
A ride home on a rainy day
A dark and stormy night
She can't see past her headlights
But she has a feeling it will be alright
A sense of calm she never had
Seemed to cover her
As a shining light seemed to come closer
Blurred by the water trailing down the front window
A crash
A boom
A fire burning brightly
As a single star seemed to fade from the world
The World got sick of it's game
And threw her away
Another soul lost to the Darkness
Simply marked by a single stone
A lone tombstone stands
A name scribbled upon it.
Mourners come Mourners go
Soon enough the grave is forgotten
Over ran by grass growing around
A name is no longer seen
A forgotten grave
Stands against time and weather
Just to remember another pawn of the World
A mannequin of today.