A look through glassy eyes... |
The glassy eyes stare right through me As I look in the mirror My face is pale and fragile It can be broken by a single tear The dress I wear is made of lace They all say I am only a pretty face But I know I have so much more inside They try to tell me I am wrong To climb the trees outside And sing songs They lace me with strings And pull me along And Even though I know I am strong I can't help but cry The puppeteer moves his hands And I weakly move along My heart is sinking in my chest I am tired And I wish that I could at least rest One day as I dance on the stage I realize that the lights were dim How I felt inside And in that moment I realized I didn't want that anymore I wanted freedom I wanted to go further than the floor I tugged on my strings and I resisted But yet the fight still persisted And soon I tumbled to the ground The strings had snapped My face was cracked I finally felt free And as the last fragile piece of porcelain fell from my face I knew who I was meant to be The strings were gone The stage too And I stood on my own And I stood tall Because I am not a toy I can show them all That I am not a puppet And I am not a doll |