Monday, July 12, 2010


Sometimes I wish I were a man,
I’d be tough, I’d be strong,
And best of all,
With nothing I’d ever go wrong.

Instead I stand here a woman,
I am delicate, I am fragile, so very she
And worst of all,
They just never let me be

He is supposed to be superior,
Ah! In, God knows, what all ways,
Maybe ‘cause he can beat me
in arm-wrestling, fist-fighting games.

You see, I am quite inferior,
For I have subtle techniques,
Play of eyes, a pretty smile,
A mouth that, like razor, speaks.

He only needs to open his mouth,
And his voice is always heard,
He is tough, he is big and,
By animal or nature, he is always feared.

While mine is soft and husky,
Often goes unheard but hey, be forewarned,
Like it is said ever so often,
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

I wear frills and I like heels,
Oh! He wears pants but so can I,
He may be topping the charts,
But hey, I, too, am soaring quite high.

Okay so, he brings home dough,
Believe me, so do I,
I can sew, I can knit,
I bring new life and make delicious pie.

I realize we are poles north and south,
If he is the Super Man, I am no less than a bird,
But know this too our paths will forever be together,
And, having said all that, I take back my first few words.

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