Dear society,

Stop trying to sober us up.
We’re young and bright
and beautiful and loud.
We will light up every
corner of every room
and still shine brighter
than the sun.

Stop telling us to cover up.
We will wear little black dresses
and bright red lipsticks,
leave lip-stains all over
your precious little world
and look so good doing it
that you’ll have to look away.

Stop telling us to slow down.
We live and love with so much
power and strength that we
cannot stop for you
or anyone, for that matter.
Every day is our day
and the world, our oyster.

Stop telling us we’re useless.
One day, we’re going to run the world
for you; going to be soldiers, doctors
writers, artists, speakers of the truth
and the truth is that we’re alive
and strong and here, and
you cannot control us.

From impatient, beautiful, and exuberant young girls everywhere.

Mild winds romantically whisper,
Beneath a sprinkled lit onyx sky,
Cuddled in a half-moonlit glow,
Beaming upon a fantasy world, air brushed,
In a white winter wonderland, quite high.

With streets coated in a blanket of snow,
Glistening through the night, in a fine array,
And tree branches engaging in a heavenly show,
In pearlescent tones and poetic notes,
As autumn seeps away, and a new season comes to play.