Just Like Me

Oh I love her very much,

She looks just like me,

Cry little girls throughout the world,

From America to Mozambique.

Some small nosed dolls,

Round faces with square jaws,

And dark almond eyes,

Most pleasantly not at odds

With the surround of straight glossy, silky hair.

Full lipped dolls,

Broad noses at the bottom,

Long lashes at the top,

Elegant, graceful necks,

Each strand of hair coiled as if a separate galaxy,

One’s soul could get lost there.

Long faced Nordic dolls, with noses to match,

Straight ash blonde hair

With eyes of green or blue,

Red curly headed, hooded-eyed Irish,

The paler skinned sisters of the rest.

Indian/ Castilian mix dolls,

Light or dark skin,

Spanish-speaking mouth,

Dark, hypnotic gypsy-like eyes that flash

In the throes of a most magnificently

Played ‘behind the beat’ lilt.

Native American dolls,

Almond shaped eyes once again,

Dark coarse hair that lasts throughout life,

High cheekbones on broad flat faces,

Where above are bright shining eyes

That see the land true.

Little girls see dreams and hopes

In these approximations

Yet who defines that watershed time

When they cross the line

From self-love to self-hate?

How does it come to this?

When they look in the mirror

And all that they see,

Disparagingly,

Is that one who looks 

“Just like me.”