Roles

The porcelain mold
Look gorgeous,
With a perfectly painted face
And a perfectly shaped shell
So perfectly designed
To hide
My weaknesses.

Standing in the perfect place
To attract the eyes of many—
All I have to do
Is slip inside,
To form my body to the shape
Of the perfect porcelain mold,
And I am guaranteed
The admiring looks
Of a broken world.

But inside the shell
I am not free
To dance
To the music
That stirs my heart;
I must stand
In rigid conformity,
Bound by the rules
Of a perfect life.

I choose instead
To cast off the image;
My weaknesses may look ugly,
But at least they’re real.
I would rather look the fool
Dancing free with Jesus
Than be the porcelain doll
Tightly bound
In a perfectly painted shell.