Woman. I Am.

A poem of a woman.

The dreamer sits with her pen in her hand,
With thoughts of prince charming not far behind.
The realist thinks about what she wont understand,
Wanting to leave memories to find.
The cynic stares out into the sky,
With nary a thought to think.
The maverick giggles as she dances through the night,
Even as the ship continues to sink.
The misogynist glares at all woman-kind,
Beating this upon herself.
The woman keeps all these things in mind,
Content with the hand she’s been dealt.