My hands in shackles as they make me wait
Forbidding me to choose my destiny
I struggle to escape, from them be free
I crave experience to fill my plate.
The men I choose never exceed their gate
They say be patient let him come to me
I do not listen, I do not agree
I'm old enough to decide my own fate.
They shove me in a corner when I'm wrong
I never get to decide for myself.
My life is open, theirs behind a door
I'm forced to hear their input and "help"
My swollen wrists from your tight grip are sore,
"Let me go, I'm not a child anymore."
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