15. Wind Up Doll
To my core, I feel so numb.
To their hands I'll soon succumb.
It's like I'm in a ballroom sitting still,
While around me the world dances with skill.
They turn to face me with judging eyes.
It's now my turn to stand and arise.
They watch me and wait for my fall,
As my skirts sweep through the dance hall.
Every day is the same,
All I know anymore is my name.
It's like my life's on a clock,
That's never going to stop.
Every night the clock's turned back,
And starts again on the same track.
Every step I make is planned,
By my mother's strict hand.
My movements are perfect, but not my own.
My words are anticipated and known.
My memories are not there for recall,
For I am naught but a wind up doll.