There are some lessons I have learned
Somewhere in the years between
Believing I’d grow up to be a princess
And discovering life can be mean.
I’ve encountered, all along my way,
Women of every variety.
From the tall, and thin, and handsome,
To the very dregs of society.
Beginning at a quite young age:
The girls who grew up too fast,
Troublemakers, the cripplingly shy,
Those at recess always picked last.
Teenagers evolving into women,
Some nerdy, some slutty, some jocks.
Some cling desperately to the familiar,
Some refuse to be put in a box.
In college, a collection of roommates:
Bookworms, intellectuals seeking power,
The clinically psychotic,
A hippie needing reminders to shower.
Transitioning into adulthood,
Many responsibly charge ahead,
Others, lazy, afraid, or downtrodden
Take their time to grow up instead.
Not all women have bad tempers,
Not all ladies flirt in excess,
Not all girls become bad drivers,
And they don’t all PMS.
In spite of remarkable differences,
The many paths that we try,
One truth is universally female:
Girls aren’t pretty when they cry.
