The Tomboy

Her passion is basketball,

And she is a fighter

By reputation alone;

She is a tomboy.

Her reflection in the glass

Stares back at her;

The tomboy sees

What no one else will.

She is sensitive and tender,

A caring, loving individual,

Yet she is scorned by those

Far more pretty than she.

She longs to be

Like the other girls,

Feminine and pretty,

Not unpopular and ugly.

She wants to be asked out

By the boys in her class,

But who would want

A ponytailed ball player?

Outside she is calloused,

But inside she is frail;

She is a tomboy,

But can she be feminine, too?

She stands before her reflection

And touches her face;

She wonders,

"Will I ever be beautiful?"

Blinking back tears

She turns away;

She will never belong

To that kind of crowd.

Slipping on her dress,

She forces a smile in her pictures;

Alone and dateless she drives

To the senior prom.