Lips smeared with rouge
A neckline cut too low
Cheeks rosy with blush
Eyes shadowed with dust

(maskara isn’t just lengthening lashes)

Stumbling in heels
An unsteady sway of the hips
Short skirt ruffles in the wind
Revealing creamy untainted skin

(how long will that last?)

She has the body of a child
But she tries to act grown
She plays music on her ipod
And is always on her cell phone

(you don’t know the first thing
about maturity)

(if you prance too far
will you take responsibility?)

It takes two to tango, love
Do you deem him worthy of you?
How long will you remain
Your mother’s precious dove?

(youth is too valuable
to throw away . . .)