Miss Mary

She was tired of being a lady
As she sat prim and proper her eyes worked the room.
She was dying to live
Really LIVE
To be kissed like she'd never even imagined
To be handled by a MAN
One who wasn't intimidated 
A man with a fierce desire who would grab her and take what he wanted. 
Instead they brought flowers and candy 
And commented on her dresses
Oh, isn't she handsome? 
Sometimes they would be brazen
And reach for her hand
But she was tired of being a lady and she needed a man.