The Art of Becoming

Being a teenage girl is a quiet storm, A swirl of emotions, a new world to transform. One moment, you're the calm of a summer sky, The next, a tempest with no reason why. You’re a diary with half-written pages, Dreams spilling over but trapped in cages. Voices tell you to stand tall, to conform, to be free— How do you choose who you’re meant to be? You are chipped nail polish and glittering tears, An ocean of courage, a raft of fears. You wear hope like a crown, though it tilts on your head, And carry questions that won't leave you to bed. The mirror shows a face you’re still learning to know, A masterpiece in progress, a seed yet to grow. But you are the moon, shifting yet whole, With tides that rise and pull at your soul. In a world that tries to box you in tight, You are chaos, you are wonder, a flickering light. Being a teenage girl is an art you refine, It’s messy, it’s raw, but it’s boldly divine.