Posted by Ronda Levine on Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Under: Poetry
The youthful glint in the eye The energy to run and jump and hide While I’m not that old, I’m no longer that
young either, Instead stuck somewhere before the middle Wearing black jeans and a t-shirt My hair cut is way too short And as I pick myself apart I remember how much I like being me How Hollywood tells us we have to be young And too-thin And too-tall And too-rich And too-self-absorbed In order to be “ likable” And “popular” And “stylish”