I’ve got that femme fatale
Those blood red lips
Dark curls and white curves
Those piercing gray eyes
With that one-two punch look
I can look right through you
Make you feel like you don’t exist
I can look right at you
Make you feel like you’re all that exists
Because Mrs. Havisham raised me well
I’ll make you think you’ve got a chance
Because these looks can kill
They kill me everyday
Because I turn heads
And I turn hearts
Because you broke mine
And never gave it back
She is like the time between changing seasons
She's the warm beach breeze
She's gentle yet fierce
Like sunlight that seeps through your skin
But she is as fleeting as the wind
She comes by suddenly
And leaves too soon
Her moods shift
Like mother nature
And the tides
There is rhythm to the madness
A song whose tune I can never quite remember
Her beauty entrances me
Like the song of the sirens
She will be the death of me
When did we stop letting little girls be little girls?
When did they start painting their face
And tightening their waists?
When did we begin to define beauty
As something bottled and sold?
When did we start telling little girls
That they were not enough
When did we start telling little girls
Be something else
When did we stop letting little girls be little girls?
When did we tell them they had to grow up?
When will we stop?
When will we start raging against the machine?
When will we cry out against this “modern love”?
When will we say enough?
When will we let innocence be?
When will we let little girls be little girls again?
Is it too late to tell them?
To tell them they are enough
To tell them there’s nothing wrong with them
To tell them the world is wrong
But magazines and pop stars are so much louder
How will they ever hear us over all this noise?