Sheltered Girl Fatigue Blues
"Sheltered Girl Fatigue Blues"
Locked in a four walled repressed suburban nightmare
Everything smooth and controlled on the surface
Despite being glossily whitewashed and organized
Into little smooth beige storage ready Rubbermaid boxes
Hidden all your secret thoughts and financial desires
Everything labeled and spread out on Microsoft Excel
Illustrated by pie charts and bar graphs
Life summed up by the parental monarchy
Rules and regulations controlled by drill sergeants
Ears silenced by sounds of a whistling foghorn
Wrapped around the collective necks of mom and dad
Arms rested on hips like a tanker ship raised bridge
Caught in limbo until given permission to lower itself again
Turned into ground hamburger meat after the latest phone bill
Burned at the stake for one too many late nights out with friends
Ordered to get out of the bedroom dungeon but in trouble doing that
Perplexed at the dilemma of living with a democratic parenting
When the child stopped becoming one after 18 whizzed by
In a race car on the Indy 500 with Andretti in the driver's seat
Obligated to swallow multiple slices of humble pie regardless
Of who's right and wrong in a particular matter of state
Relegated to the position of first child when mistakes are made
Embarrassed by the sight of pigtails, cute suits and Shirley Temples
Reprimanded for adding a dash of Cayenne pepper to the mixture
Told to cook up life's plans inside the pot only instead of outside it
Threw the ultimate social calendar into the pot like a sacrificial lamb
Roasted on the neighborhood barbecue pit as if it were a pig on a spit
Pressured to be the good soldier when democracy strayed too far
From the path of least resistance as the rules crumbled under the strain
Appearances were dynamited into nothing after one too many internal squabble
General and Colonel went onto their separate posts and severed all ties
Left their number one soldier behind to pick up the broken glass pieces
New leader in command of the household post
One thing certain: the soldier didn't stand a chance
Back to the daily grind on post with only a new leadership face to remember
Or forget depending on the subordinates.
Locked in a four walled repressed suburban nightmare
Everything smooth and controlled on the surface
Despite being glossily whitewashed and organized
Into little smooth beige storage ready Rubbermaid boxes
Hidden all your secret thoughts and financial desires
Everything labeled and spread out on Microsoft Excel
Illustrated by pie charts and bar graphs
Life summed up by the parental monarchy
Rules and regulations controlled by drill sergeants
Ears silenced by sounds of a whistling foghorn
Wrapped around the collective necks of mom and dad
Arms rested on hips like a tanker ship raised bridge
Caught in limbo until given permission to lower itself again
Turned into ground hamburger meat after the latest phone bill
Burned at the stake for one too many late nights out with friends
Ordered to get out of the bedroom dungeon but in trouble doing that
Perplexed at the dilemma of living with a democratic parenting
When the child stopped becoming one after 18 whizzed by
In a race car on the Indy 500 with Andretti in the driver's seat
Obligated to swallow multiple slices of humble pie regardless
Of who's right and wrong in a particular matter of state
Relegated to the position of first child when mistakes are made
Embarrassed by the sight of pigtails, cute suits and Shirley Temples
Reprimanded for adding a dash of Cayenne pepper to the mixture
Told to cook up life's plans inside the pot only instead of outside it
Threw the ultimate social calendar into the pot like a sacrificial lamb
Roasted on the neighborhood barbecue pit as if it were a pig on a spit
Pressured to be the good soldier when democracy strayed too far
From the path of least resistance as the rules crumbled under the strain
Appearances were dynamited into nothing after one too many internal squabble
General and Colonel went onto their separate posts and severed all ties
Left their number one soldier behind to pick up the broken glass pieces
New leader in command of the household post
One thing certain: the soldier didn't stand a chance
Back to the daily grind on post with only a new leadership face to remember
Or forget depending on the subordinates.
Published by Heather Dekin
I am a college graduate who has been writing since I was twelve. Over the years, I experimented in different areas of writing. Though each experience, I learned to decide what was right for me as a writer an... View profile
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