In plastic dreams and painted grins,
Barbie dolls dance, their perfect sins.
A celluloid world of glitter and gloss,
Where fantasies bloom, at a hefty cost.
Margot Robbie dons the iconic guise,
An actress preening, under artificial skies.
A silver screen adorned with painted lies,
As Barbie’s tale unfolds, before our eyes.
A symphony of pink, a manufactured grace,
Concealing fractures, beneath that plastic face.
A dollhouse mirage, a curated façade,
A quest for perfection, flawed and flawed.
Barbie, a symbol of desire and despair,
Projected ideals, with cascading hair.
Her symmetrical features, unattainable bliss,
An illusion of beauty, a precarious abyss.
In the doll’s eyes, we see our own reflection,
A fragile girl, seeking love and affection.
Wrapped in an image, we long to define,
Yet drowning within, our souls intertwined.
In plastic dreams and painted grins,
We seek solace, where beauty begins.
But let us remember, as we behold,
That truth resides within, far from the mould.
Ventimental 