They wanted a doll.
I was made.
They loved me…
for awhile.
They wanted variety.
My friends came into play.
We had different hair and skin colors.
They were happy
and so was I.
They wanted cutting edge.
I developed new styles.
They wanted an icon.
I rose to the challenge.
I showed girls
they could be anything they dreamed.
I became something different
for each person.
A dancer for some,
a vet for others.
I became an astronaut,
and shot for the stars.
I was a teacher,
a mother,
a sister,
a friend.
I became whatever they wanted,
whatever they needed.
But still,
it wasn’t enough.
She’s too pretty.
No one’s that perfect.
She’s unrealistic.
The complaints rolled in,
one after another.
So I changed again.
Just like I always have.
Yet I can’t help but wonder,
will I ever be enough.
Prompt: Not Enough
jensbatcave 