OOC: This is a free verse poem in first person. There are some things I need to address before reading. Mikhaila is the name of a limited edition Asian ball-jointed doll from a South Korean company. When it was released, it sparked outrage and controversy because of how it bore major resemblances to Püns, an Asian ball-jointed doll from a French company. Whether or not Mikhaila is really sculpted from plagiarism remains to be seen. (Also, there's a reference somewhere in there.)
Enjoy ^^
--
BIC:
To have a mouth- but no voice,
To have a pair of eyes- but no tears,
Their taunts, their jeers,
Their gestures are my fears
Beyond this boundary of human and resin.
"What is a man- but a miserable pile of secrets?"
Even you, the flesh, had said it the same,
And so my creators are to blame-
And you cry out, "Have you no shame?"
For my meaningless, worthless existence.
Surely if I had not been born,
To even be looked down upon my kin,
My very existence a sin,
Within the faded skin-
My creators would not have mattered.
I apologize, my fellow sisters,
For the path you are to take-
To forever be in hatred's wake,
To forever be the creator's fake
Intention or accident- who would have known?
A cold chill upon my back,
A heavy burden on my shoulders,
The criticisms a plethora of boulders,
The skin of mine soon to molder-
At least, that is my wish in order to end it all.
Enjoy ^^
--
BIC:
To have a mouth- but no voice,
To have a pair of eyes- but no tears,
Their taunts, their jeers,
Their gestures are my fears
Beyond this boundary of human and resin.
"What is a man- but a miserable pile of secrets?"
Even you, the flesh, had said it the same,
And so my creators are to blame-
And you cry out, "Have you no shame?"
For my meaningless, worthless existence.
Surely if I had not been born,
To even be looked down upon my kin,
My very existence a sin,
Within the faded skin-
My creators would not have mattered.
I apologize, my fellow sisters,
For the path you are to take-
To forever be in hatred's wake,
To forever be the creator's fake
Intention or accident- who would have known?
A cold chill upon my back,
A heavy burden on my shoulders,
The criticisms a plethora of boulders,
The skin of mine soon to molder-
At least, that is my wish in order to end it all.