I'm tired of the world
Telling me who to be...

Step One:

Must I conform to it all?
Do they know better than me?

Wear a low-cut shirt to show as much cleavage as possible.

When I look around
The things that I see...

In fact, avoid wearing a shirt.

Make me wonder what happened
To 'unique' and 'integrity'...

Instead, wear a bra underneath a see-through beater (or mesh shirt, etc.).

It's worse than a disease
This 'popularity'...

Step Two:

As they try to conform,
They run farther from 'free'...

Make sure you show as much stomach as possible.

I see girls my age
Prostituting already...

Pierce your belly button for maximum effect.

They don't know it
Lost in 'sexuality'...

Step Three:

They're told to show off
It makes them look 'pretty'...

Wear your shorts way down past your hips.

It turns the boys on
Don't you want that, Katie?

Pull your thong up so everybody can see it.

The answer is no
Not in the way they mean...

Step Four:

There's more to a girl
Then what they'd have you believe...

Make sure your shorts are only a half inch longer than your underwear.

A girl has a face
A girl has needs...

Step Five:

Which cannot be fulfilled
By the guy down the street...

Sleep with every boy/man who wants you!

Perhaps a temporary pleasure
Is all it'd add up to be
But I have a mind
And so does every random she
I hate walking 'round
Hate the boys whispering
Hate knowing what they talk 'bout
Hate knowing that it's me
Hate feeling self-conscious
Of every breath I breathe
It's hard to act normal
When they're always watching me
If I acted stupid
Would they all just leave?
They don't care 'bout my brain
Not my spirit, soul, not me
Why should that turn 'em on
When there's other things happening?

They rarely look at my face
It's all below the neck
Am I a virgin, they ask
Aw, what the heck

"Yeah, so what?" I tell them
"You're not changing that."
They stop bugging me there
That's good, 'cause I do slap
They don't wanna see me
When my temper's out of whack

They don't wanna see me
Just the pretty package I'm in
And if they dare to touch my butt
They've got another thing comin'

What's the point of this poem
I wrote so late at night?
Why've I opened my heart up
And showed you what's inside?

They don't wanna see me
...don't wanna see me
...not me
...not you

And if they don't care 'bout you
The you that's deep inside
The part you think they love you for
When it's really what clothes hide
Why let them in your soul at all?
Hold on to a shred of pride
Gather up your dignity and clothes
And brush that perv aside

Not that all boys're like that
I know a few who aren't

But now I've got to go to bed
Before the mornin' comes
Test in band 2nd period
This time I can't just hum...

Author's note: This would have been written when I was in late middle school/early high school. I was really struggling with depression and low self-esteem at the time.