SMILE, SMILE, LITTLE GIRL...
Izabel Sonia Ganz
Smile, smile, little girl,
keep that smile on your face.
Hide your anger, little girl,
it does not become your gender.
You may be smart, little girl
but conceal it well with smiles,
say but little, speak so sweetly,
never, never prove them wrong:
your main purpose in this world
is for boys to like you!
Smile, not-so-little girl,
as old doctor fondles you
“checking your responses”.
Maybe if you didn’t smile
he would not have pinched your nipples.
If you could have owned your anger
you would punch his yellow teeth,
kick his thin shins black and blue.
But how could you do it, girl,
without giving up your smile?
Smile, smile, now big girl
when the man in shining car
on your next Saturday date
forces his hard penis
deep between your trembling legs.
If you knew how to do anger,
if its fire had been cherished
not forbidden and suppressed,
you would scream and honk horn loudly,
knee him sharply in the groin,
stuff your nails into his eyeballs,
rather than hurt and afraid
cower and allow the rape.
Maybe you smiled too much
when he reached inside your pants...
Now I’m glad, my sharp old girl,
that in ripe years you have learned
both the value of your anger
and the high price of your smiles.
