Strawberry Shortcake

Feeling insecure of my naked body.
Feeling like a user,a nobody.
All because I don't look like Barbie.

Maybe it's my stomach.
Or maybe I am not feminine enough.
But lately,life is really tough.

The more I grew,the tighter this choker gets.
As the sun falls down and a sunset sets.
Day by day,I try my best.

I cope by daydreaming,peaceful rest.
I am like a strawberry shortcake.
I may look sweet.

But when I'm all alone,I try not to accept defeat.
I put on icing,whipped cream.
To try and be the ultimate dessert.

Maybe I am not sugary enough.
Should I pair it with lemonade?
A dessert,fully homemade.

Their eyes seem to be glued onto your chest.
So you stuff it to look your best.
They say,you need plump lips.

Tiny waist and round hips.
Looking around to whoever wants me.
Because I'm not built like a doll.

Make my waist thinner,I begin to fall on the floor.
They say you need ,bright blue eyes.
Golden,blonde locks.

But that just wouldn't be me.
I just wish people would stop commenting and let me be.
It would make me exactly like them.

But that's not what I want to be.
I want to feel happy,pretty.
And be the real me.

Alas,it's my fault.
Because I put icing on top.
Getting plastic surgery untill I drop.

But let me say,I'm not a Barbie.
I am not made of plastic.
I am not a puppet,nor a doll.

Sometimes,I wish people could just mind their bussiness.
Instead of making us feel insecure.
Sure,keep reminding us.

But that just wouldn't be the cure.
They say we need a thinner waist.
Like objects,letting our bodies go to waste.

I just wish they could see us for who we are.
Instead of putting us in a dark place.
Find happiness and discover new ways.

Healthy,long hair.
In the wind,it sways.
Without icing going to waste.