As a young girl

In my late teens

With tiny tits

The size of beans

I expect older men

To treat me kindly

With befitting love

Like they would do

To their offspring

To promise me a ring

They should stop

I’m still young

But can smell lies

My spring thighs

Bulging breast

And curving hips

Aren’t for their eyes

Their perverted desire

To want to bed me

Is sick and it’ll die

With their manhood