The little girl

There once was a little girl with indecisive eyes,
Whose Mother put her soft blonde hair into pigtails and ribbons,
Which the little girl would pull out moments later,
Leaving her hair wild like her spirit.

There once was a little girl with rosy cheeks,
Whose Mother would try to gently wipe food from,
But the little girl would push her hands away screaming in protest,
Leaving the girl messy and happy.

There once was a little girl with a curious mind,

Whose Mother would always try to satisfy.

Her pointing fingers, or tantruming fists, never received a good enough answer to her ever constant question of "why?"

There once was a girl who wasn't so little anymore.

At age fifteen the girl decided her eyes were the ordinary color brown, 

And only let her Mother put her hair in ponytails with a single ribbon,

Which the girl would leave in all day,

Even though they gave her a headache,

Because that's how the girls at school wore their hair.

The girl painted her cheeks red,

And her Mother would gently try to convince her to wipe the make up off,

But the girl would push away her concerns and protest,

Leaving the girl with a made up but happy face.

The girl still had a curious mind,

With questions that her Mother didn't understand.

Her fingers pointed to her reflection and glossy magazine, her tantruming fists banged against her thighs,

And her mind took a darker turn of whys.

There once was a girl who wasn't quite herself.

At age seventeen she decided her eyes were green because that's what the cute boy who sat next to her said he loved about her, 

And she wore her hair down and laughed when he pulled it because that meant he liked her,

Her heart went wild like her hair used to.

The girl had tear stained cheeks,

And the boy who sat next to her in class didn't wipe them away as he pushed his hand up her skirt,

She didn't push his hands away or protest,

Leaving the girls clothes a mess and her unhappy.

Her mind wasn't curious anymore,

It could never be satisfied,

So she pounded the floor with her fists she jabbed her finger at the sky and screamed at God her constant question of "why?"

But the night was empty and so were eyes, so she strung up her ribbons and pulled them tight.