the MAN-nequin.

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It’s funny how the light makes him animate,

Makes him appear to have a shade of what’s considered a soul

Painted; dressed pretty, little mannequin!

Wannabe man, dressed up in gold

So many times, he spun me the fairytale

I’ll never hurt you, I’ll always love you, to thee I shall be true!

I picked up the fibers, and wrapped myself in them

Until I was a gold-wrapped cocoon

I emerged clinging to the fibers of fantasy

Remade into the mold you said I should fit

Following every last bit of instruction

At mercy to your whim & your wit

But just like a piece of gold-plated jewelry

I soon came to find what lay beneath

Nothing real is that easily broken

Nothing true that easily beat

You gave up on me without any sort of a fight

Not a champion, but a mannequin -action feigned

All you promised me was gold-plated and cheap

True intent being what you stood to gain

So easily tossed aside, like day-old socks

No truth to your words; inside you would hide

Like a mannequin – nothing inside that could be real

All you promised has withered and died

Flesh and blood I am; not infallible or eternal

Time is fleeting, so what matters must be tried

But a mannequin only has the tenacity for one use

No longevity, no devotion—not a ride or die

So I thank you, for my harshest of lessons

Pose and fake it, until something better comes along

Mr. MAN-nequin; glittering fool’s gold to attract the stupid

My parts intact…I walk away, I stay strong.

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