Blackened Barbie (A Poem)

Hi! I wrote this about teenage girls I know & have known who are like Barbies whose lives will shatter once they embark into the real world. As I am graduating high school in a few months, this is even more relevant to me. I hope you like it-it was written pretty quickly, although I did edit it twice.


Barbie girl

Set on fire from her poor choices

Didn’t listen to the many voices

Telling her

In a thick blur

That choosing to live her early life like a Barbie girl is pleading for trouble

See her plastic pieces in the rubble


Hair glowing not like spun honey but like licks of red-hot flame

No one but herself and her pretty head to blame

Double watermelon chest burst like melons

Dirty words from her mouth killed off by flame’s felons

Once tipped gold and rosy pink nails break off like a crumbling rock cliff

Crumbling like her life once she’s on her own

When she reaches adult life

When she finds out the truth

of what lays after her privileged youth

She can’t dance in the flames

Only suffocate

And feel the lurer become the bait

Oh, she becomes a blackened Barbie


Her eyes once glowed false aquamarine

But now they fade

They dim to match the dim mind that was struck so long ago

With the curse of choosing not to learn, to know

That a glimmering Barbie life stops once real-life rises

Barbie legsskinhairchesteyes are just disguises

For a future life of suffering


Oh, I could maybe pity the Barbie girl

But I knew her in a harsh way

She harmed me with cruel words

Tried to break me down every day

So how could I pity a blackened Barbie girl when she asked to live out this way?


When time catches up with her

When time sets Barbie girl to the stake,

And I watch them all start to catch fire

Flames refusing to tire

I know that no matter how bad they treat me

Someday they will reach this fate of a crackling, blazing, alive inferno

And I will be far far away from this fate

Watching in a mind’s view their plastic beauty fade fade peel away

External beauty never stays

External beauty always burns away

Watching in a mind’s view their final fate

And I hold close that someday they will face flames

I never will face

No matter what their rosebud lips proclaim

I’m safe

I’m no Barbie to be stripped of gold

To be blackened from life’s flame

I may not be pretty or alluring

But I have the upper hand

I have the upper hand over

rosebud lips

and artificially bright eyes

Over baby soft skin

Perfectly even in tone

Over a perfectly proportional body & over silky, shimmery hair


I have the upper hand

Over the blackened Barbies abound

I have the upper hand

And in a few months time it will be far more grand


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