Friday, 29 August 2014

Alas to be a teenage girl

Aware we are wilting but forced to wait
Wake up each day and trust in fate?

Pah! This is a modern era and fate died
Long ago.

We must prune and pluck and pinch.
Bra to lift and belt cinch.

I shall be fat when I am married.
And ladies shall cry, “Oh!
Is not it shocking how she has let herself go?”

And as they snicker I shall smile;
Eat a cake once in a while
(or perhaps oftener than that)
And I shall enjoy being fat
And going without brushing my hair
And seeming not to care.

But for now I must watch what I eat
I must wear shoes that hurt my feet.
I must prune and pluck and pinch,
My waist gain not a single inch,
I must draw lines beneath my eyes
And when in bed suppress the sighs

Of inevitable disappointment-
Not when I am married! Oh, no!

But oh,
When I am married I shall be fat-

And where shall be the shame in that?


It is a truth universally acknowledged
That it was the best of times, and the
Worst of times and there was
Much ado about nothing.
Nobody knew whether to be
Or not and all children grew up, except one.