Little girls born and dressed in:
Frilly Sunday church dresses.
Headbands to match,
Pink blankies in hand,

Curly-Q hair,
Barrettes and bows galore,
Cute button like noses,
And teddy bear plush tummies.

In a flash so it seems,
Little girls grow up to be young beauty queens.

Expected to stand tall and straight,
With shoulders back and upright,
Taught to master high heels,
And elbows off the table while at any dinner.

Told to respect her elders,
Yet talking back to them wasn’t truly a shame.
Follow her heart and speak her mind.

Makeup used to hid minor impurities of otherwise,
Flawless skin.
A date at the door,
A limo in waiting,
Cinderella and her prince whisked away
For the evenin’.

A little more plump now like un-melted butter,
Child bearing and looking forward
To being a mother.

Going to and fro from soccer games,
Football practice and ballet recitals,
To days spent at salons and spas
Being pampered in dye jobs and skin wraps.

Eating right and working out at the gym,
Determined to loose the buttery fat leftovers
From years before.

Tummy tucks, face lifts,
Nips and tucks here and there,
Trying to reach youth once more.

So far away now from any Baywatch babe,
No sexy bikini’s anymore that’s for sure.
Just the uglyness of age.
That no one…. can fully… cosmetically change.