When a female is sixteen
She is at the crossroads of in-between,
Shorts in one hand and in the other a dress
Does she want to play, or will she impress?
The metamorphosis of the female
Some call it beautiful while others call it hell,
In puberty a boy's voice will just merely change
Now he has a more mature shouting range.
From the cocoon she has emerged
The butterfly by nature has been urged,
Tomorrow now she has a determined plan
But, as she evolves, a boy never truly stays a man.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem