I grow old! I grow old, I grow old, with the passage of time,
With age, with maturity, but not not by heart.
My bosom's all developed and I monthly bleed,
My heart's still a child, but I'm ready to conceive.
My age has the number to care for the weak,
But my heart's still small enough to play and loudly weep.
My voice is still loud, but I'm not asked to speak
I can't roar like a wild cat, and I'm supposed to be meek.