You probably have a name like Amber or Ashley.
You probably drive a car made in the 2000s
And like to play popular hip-hop songs on your top forty radio
You know, in that stereo he probably bought you for your birthday.
You work at a temporary job for eight bucks an hour
And during your lunch break you make plans for that night.

You are the basic suburban female
And you exist to be the bar that the rest of us judge ourselves on.
Or at least, I do.
You are prettier than most
Have more money than most
Have more friends than most
And you are the person
Who allows me to think that I can one day be at your level,
Even though it's far from true.