And who would ever love her... She's a girl with a voice. Too much freedom she demands. For instance... wearing the clothes of her choice. Unwilling to give up on her dreams, not yet ready to conceive. She expects him to seek consent even though they be married. And girls like her, don't make for a good bride. She's outrageous in her ways too far from being docile. Unwilling to fake a smile for people who judge, for her political incline. And girls like her aren't appreciated by men looking for a wife. Though they'd love her to be a mistress to pamper their ego and pride. Lazy like a cat, she loves to nap all the time. How would she manage household chores, if she loves to party every Saturday night. And girls like her intimidate men and women rooted deep in ways that date back to archaic times. Facing backlash from all, for being the change they so vehemently despise. Like a grenade, she's fragile. And loves like there's no other life. Girls like her confuse the people who see everything in black and white. For she swings in ease... From red to green to blue... Grey, teal and turquoise. And girls like her... Build other girls up. Building an empowered tribe. For she's here, not just to be a mother, daughter and wife. She's here to be whatever she feels is right.