Raised by Mannequin

Aman 12

I was born in a window display,
posed before I had bones.
I was raised by mannequins
perfect and sale ready.
Silent saints of scarcity.

My first steps were aisle-walks,
then I met your pupils
History was created.
Your longing blinked
and I slipped in
your cart and heart.

You named me taste and choice.
But I lived in your brain as a voice.

I am immortal, showing you a portal
of an infinite pit labelled brands
a hunger that expands.
and drags you to shop
till you drop.

  • Author: Aman 12 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 1st, 2025 03:53
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 23
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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    This is creative and individualistic in nature a great metaphor of consumerism painted in a mannequin and of capitalism in a store window and shopping cart. Lovely

    • Aman 12

      Thank you for amazing comment as always..and for feeling the poem.

      • sorenbarrett

        You are most welcome

      • Rocky Lagou

        Oooof this is great! I love a good persona poem and this perspective from which you write from is very eye opening. “Silent saints of scarcity.” Ah! I love me a good alliterative line.

        • Aman 12

          Thank you for the appreciation



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