She's the kind of girl who can strong arm the moon

She speaks her own name,
tall and proud
knowing the world in front of her 
may palm her down.

You don’t want to give them a reason,
she remembers her father saying.

But the truth she’s found
is there will always be one -

She doesn’t smile enough,
they say.

Her eyes are always so angry,
they complain.

How presumptuous of her to say,
they arraign.

Deep within she knows her strength
and it radiates when she’s in her element.
 
She becomes the kind of girl who can strong arm the moon
when she ignores the voices not her own.

Proclaiming her name 
entwined with the echoes of the women 
who came before her,
she shoulders through.

She’s the kind of girl
who can strong arm the moon.

Notes

Who would you allow yourself to be if you quieted the naysayers? Describe who she is in strong, specific words. Write her story.