Free To Be Me
There was a naughty girl.
And a naughty girl was she.
For nothing would she do
but try to stop the sea.
She’d push it with her hands.
She’d stomp it with her feet.
She scream down the pulling moon.
Kick sand castles in retreat.
The was a naughty girl.
Who railed at her mother.
Often this feisty pipsqueak
would even pop her brother.
She’d take the teachers all to task.
She’d give the priest a sermon.
She’d back the bullies down the street.
They’d see who would be learnin’
It seems, she wasn’t naughty.
It seems, she was just free,
free in all the broadest sense
is what she wished to be!
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