" Wait For It "
I've been no wife nor mother,
Though my instincts would belie
The fact that I've no children,
And those roles have passed me by;
All too often 'facts' are fiction,
Nor are birth-pangs credit sure
To legitimize the value
Of the feelings I've endured.
There are times when I've felt 'cheated',
As my 'chances faded fast',
And I've thought that I regretted
Certain turnings of my past.
If I only could have cheated--
Lied, a little, to myself--
'Played the game' and 'made the effort--
I'd have left the spinster's shelf.
But, that's bullshit, and I know it--
Nothing honest comes from lies--
And I won't accept the judgement
That I see in others' eyes.
I won't say I'm never lonesome,
I won't say I never cry,
But I'm running out of patience
When somebody asks me, "Why?"
They should know there's always reasons
For the choices that we make,
And that some one's sacrifices
Are another's sad mistake.
I just never fell in love, Dear,
And from love comes all the rest;
And I'd not condemn my children,
Nor myself, to 'second best'.
So, I guess I'm just 'old-fashioned',
Though that surely must sound odd,
For I've followed no tradition,
Nor the dictates of some god.
All the roles that offered to me--
If I'd only faked the game--
Now have gone to other women...
And there's no one I would blame.
I've grown wiser, never doubt it,
And I would not give that up;
And I am the fuller measure
For not drinking from that cup...
'Course, if chance should ever bless me,
And my one true love I find,
I won't waste another minute!
But, the wait? Well...never mind.
© 2002 Packrat (Harolyn J. Gourley)
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