you grow up,
    (Hopefully.)                                            ­                                    
just like your mother
you want to be.
A beautiful woman
some day,
you sit
wish
and play,
with makeup
jewelry
and all these *things

Never aware,
as a child,
what these things
might bring.

You just want to smile
living in your dream.
of being a model
or fashionable icon
never thinking of
the ways these things
one day
will make you scream.

the men that want
to hold you, just
because you are
a thing.

so pretty
so "perfect"
What is this world worth
when we can't even let our souls sing?

For fear that
we are stalked
and murdered-
or God forbid
worse.

How do you teach a child
to cultivate dreams,
while worrying they'll
end up in a hearse?