21st century girl

Every day I see her.

Walking along.

With a swarm of potential suitors following her.

Gawking.

All envious of the the man who walks in stride with her

Hand in hand.

I think nothing of it.

I don’t acknowledge her.

Because giving her the knowledge that she catches my eye would feed her pride.

And I can’t contribute to the making of another monster.

Another beautiful girl that was never close to her father.

So instead she’s Looking for affection in numbers

Counting up the compliments she receives daily.

The Twitter likes on her pictures.

the reblogs and the revines

The followers on her Instagram

And in an instant I see her for what she is

Just a girl.

Insecure.

Alone in a sea of suitors

And none of them suit her

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