Thirteen, Who Would Want To Be!.
Your sure your thirteen and not twenty two.
Your bra size grows, and your attitude too.
Your bossy, judgmental and spotty throughout.
Carry on with the lip and I'll give you a clout.
Your only thirteen get that make-up of now,
Oh here we go another darn row.
You sulk in that room, I'll frown in here,
you'd have more respect if your father was near.
I'm only thirteen and this world is not fair.
With her crocodile tears and her neatly combed hair.
I love you Mummy, She sob's as she says,
Oh my god I agree, It's only a phase.
Copyright © Carolyne Lloyd-Hartley | Year Posted 2010
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