Crescendoll's crescendo

I see her behind the glass. She is beautiful, like a skillfully crafted doll. I watch her dance, I watch her sing. She is amazing, like the first sunrise of summer or the first snowflake of winter.
I laugh at her jokes and smile when she plays. She is the thing that gives me hope, the thing that makes life bearable.

But it's a lie. I look around and see others who stare at her like me. They all think she's beautiful, that she's as amazing as the first sunrise of summer. But it's all a lie.

In truth she's nothing but a doll, a perverted thing to take our minds off of real life. Something to drag us down to her level. She is dirty, ugly, a creature that deserves our pity and nothing else. She was once someone's daughter, but now...now she is nothing.