Dress Code
Well this is Fuc*ing Ridiculous
Well this is Fucking ridiculous
That you waste my time calling me to the office
To say my legs are on display
And that I look so like a prostitute in seventh grade
You worry I've lost my way
You care and they care
But not me
Because this is my body and I'll do what I please
When did society's norms figure they can tell me how to dress?
Do the women in the Middle East feel oppressed?
But while I'm exhibited
Her words and mind are all that's prohibited
We blame men for things being this way
But it's usually other women who judge who's gone astray
Because when I was seven and picked up a magazine
It was often women who were behind the scene
Who decided a female means weak
Because any challenge I love to meet
My skin is soft
My will is hard
So why does a woman president still seem so bizarre?
I wish I had facial hair
Because maybe then you would stop imaging me bare
And instead respect the drive within
Because, in everything, I aim for the win
But around the world we still suffer so
I wonder where our humanity's gone
Because you can't win at life playing with half a team
Still most choose this knowledge not to glean
So while I walk around in these short shorts of mine
Dear God can you think of more to say to me than "you're fine"
So in this one moment that you are listening to me
I beg you stop and think to consider us all a "we"
I know we are different in so many ways
But if we completely separate, well...then we have limited days
I truly believe the world can be a better place
If you look at a woman past her face
So to seventh grade me, I dedicate this to
And I will end calling my old teacher shrew
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