The Era Of A Princess (poem)

Once upon a time…
a myth prodded my mind
the branding iron labeled me
stamped a number
an expiration date
a factory of Princess’
we were meant to be the same
sweet and innocent
blonde, brown, red hair
but our eyes have lost the spark
and our makers lost their care
Barbies off a lineup
waiting for our Ken
told to be ‘good girls’
to cross our legs when we sit
how to smile
and to never spit
but that dream has faded
now the dolls are pierced and tattooed
the era of the Princess
has turned to the era
of an independent attitude
self-entitled
‘b#tches
who don’t give a sh$t’
the race to be unique
has led them all to be the same

Copyright Mermanda (AKA prettyeys)- All Rights Reserved
Prettyeys Prettyeys
22-25, F
1 Response Jan 23, 2013

Some of us were "weird"
The mold did not fit
The iron rusted
We saw those who spit
as we walked the lonely
road home

The keys around our necks
unlocked empty homes
where noone told us who Barbie
was supposed to be

And now we form our own
without molds to bind
and there are still born this day
hearts of princes and princesses
yearning to be free