Mannequin

And there the mannequin stands,

like a lighthouse, 

beckoning those in despair to safety;

the safety of the cliffs. 

I wish I could be a mannequin, 

so hollow and light without sin. 

To be adorned and to be admired, 

to never again be so tired. 

To not be able to feel, 

the pangs and the burning oh so real. 

To be pretty, 

but inanimate, 

unreal. 

How something without a face, 

could my happiness be taken,

steal. 

Until I can't heal, 

So I kneel, 

because no last meal. 

I want to be her, 

so I strive and persist,

until my life's gone in a blur, 

because society insists.