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She stood atop the cliff.
All eyes were on her.
Ready, waiting, for her to fail.
Fall down to the crashing waves.

She could do as they expected.
Jump.
Or she could turn, facing their surprised faces.
Go with the group or be an individual.

Step.
The cliff's edge crumbled a little under her weight.
But is this what she wanted?
No.
But is this what they wanted?
Yes.

A robot.
A mannequin,
They pull the strings as she follows the movement.
Crafted by man, to serve man, to entertain man, an object if you will.

All eyes on her,
She broke the routine,
And she drank in their surprised and somewhat disappointed faces.
This life is her's to make,
Her's to live,
Her's to shape.

All eyes are on her,
Life never tasted as sweet.