Where did our little girl go?
We used to care for you so.
We are supposed to mold your impressionable mind,
So that you'll turn out as one our kind.
Now you have your own opinions.
You're no longer one of our minions.
Animals were put on this earth to be slain.
Why is it that you think for yourself?
And put all our ideas on an old dusty shelf,
Set there to be forever ignored.
I think you are past being cured.
Now you're the black sheep of the flock,
If only we could turn back the clock.
But I'm done dealing with you,
because you don't see things my way too.