Little Girls

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?

Glamour

She’s got that soft lens focus That million-dollar air Coke bottle curves And Hollywood flare She’s got that tight bun Strong arms and thick legs She’s got that fighter’s stance That pumped-up trance She’s got that thick sweater Bundled up with a book Cold hands and bedhead She’s got a million ships And kissable lips She’s got none of that She’s got something else Something grand, something her But whatever you’ve got, you’ve got glamour And ladies, can’t you hear them clamor?

Picture of Me

There's a picture of me That I keep in my wallet

It's a reminder of innocence

And all the things that I've lost

It's a picture of hope

A picture of the day

When I traded my dreams for practicality

It's a picture of youth

It's a picture before I grew too old too fast

It's a picture before I became jaded and worn

A picture before I became lost

A picture of me in love

A picture before reality came crashing in

A picture before I knew what bad days looked like

A picture before I knew real heartache

A picture before I knew betrayal

The last picture before I died

Because she isn't me anymore

And I miss her

And this is my love letter to myself

To say that I'm sorry

To say that I will raise a glass to her memory

And that I believe in life after death