As kids, boys were taught to play with their toys,
Girls were taught how to become them.
They learned that “perfect” was Barbie,
And they should dress and be played with, like the rest of them.
Getting all dolled up to be like models in commercials,
Being programmed to stay quiet when neglected,
Ready to act at the push of a button,
And they are made to believe that “boys will be boys.”
“Boys are supposed to play rough, play boss, and take what they want.”
But then they find out what boys take might, may never be given back,
Or they see the terrible fact that boys break old toys,
And get new ones without feeling a thing.
These girls have fantasies of Ken buying a ring and a dream house
But all these girls get are bed, slow jams, and handcuffs for their playset.
Being placed back in that box, and sent away after bed time,
Quickly getting tired of these boys playing pretend with their hearts
But they learn to go with the games and keep that pretty painted smile,
Because “boys will be boys,”
And although toys fall hard, dolls come apart, and plastic skin never heals,
They go with the pain.
They go with the pain, because toys are lifeless without games.
They go with the pain, so these boys will always remind them,
But only as toys.