She always wore sensible shoes. No high heels, her mother didn't approve.
Her skirt was always below her knee.
Blouses buttoned no cleavage to see.
A ***** at School the boys would say.
Not in with the crowd in any way.
A swat, a pet and all the names called, as she disappeared under her load.
Mother had her at the age of 15 and was determined her daughter wouldn't be the same.
Then came the day she left their home, off to college and living alone.
Weeks passed, months and more and she returned home but not as before.
Tartan skirt as long as a belt, chains round her waist and a Mohawks hair.
Her mother went cold and ripped her apart. What had she done to her mothers heart.
Oppressed and caged no life had she. Locked in a shell that her mother had made.
Once she was free to spread her wings, she got tattooed and pierced with rings.
She never more wore sensible shoes or hid herself as one of the crowd.