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Stranger With My Face
I see a stranger; she looks like me.
This isn't the way I remember her to be.
Her phone is by her ear, held tight in her hand;
She's marching along with the rest of the band.
She'd always thought her courage would last,
But individuality is now a thing of the past.
What happened to the girl whose hair was tangled and frizzy,
The girl whose days were never busy?
What happened to the kid that wrestled in dirt,
The one whose feelings could never be hurt?
What happened to the girl who could fight like a boy,
The girl who ripped the heads off of Barbie doll toys?
What happened to the girl the world could never touch,
Whose opinions were strong and whose wit was too much?
Society won the fight, and she began to conform --
But as time wore on she got bored with the norm.
She'd thought that conforming would make her character clearer,
But now all she can ask is... who is this girl I see in the mirror?