At 28, old enough to know what I want
Still young enough to be changed.
Don't count on what you think you know
the rules are mine to make.
Craft them now, like pottery,
Yet it's I you think you can mold,
You see, I am a stubborn girl
with ways too brassy, too bold.
I am as I have always been,
a head of unruly curls,
Longer now, messy,
still my mind a tilt-a-whirl.
Brown eye liner framing blue
girlishly sweet, mischievious,
Window to a soul so many want to inhabit,
Control, manipulate, though few ever will.
Love to see them determined to
get in, dominate, break through-
The stone cold woman that emerged
after the wrecking ball of you.