Sometimes when people see her,
They see the good little girl,
That sits down,
That’s quite,
And does what she is told.

The girl that doesn’t want trouble,
That’ll snitch at the sound of danger.
The girl that does all of her work on time,
That fears anything below an A.

Sometimes when people see her,
They see the loud girl,
That doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,
Whether she’s talking to her friends,
Or when she’s firing off a sarcastic remark.

The girl that’ll throw words,
If you dare dis her family.
The girl that’ll catch hands,
If you dare push her.

They do not like this loud girl,
She should stay quite,
Know her place,
Fall in line.

But they do not like the good girl either,
She should open up,
Let loose for once,
Stand on her own two feet.

People seem to always decide,
What this girl should be.
Not the girl herself,
To show what she believes.

But it is like this with every girl.
They are all either:
Too tall,
Too short,
Too skinny,
Too fat.

These girls face constant battle,
On what they should,
And should not do.
But no one ever asks what the girls might think.

Instead the girls will live,
With these rules forced to swallow.

But soon the girls will rise,
And everyone will soon follow.