The Lady in pearls

I thought I needed to be the woman in pearls,

short wavy hair, blazer, perfect curls,

matching heals and shiny nails,

a successful career that never fails.

I'm not that woman, that's okay,

I do things in another way.

I go to church, read my scriptures, and pray.

Although, I look better in black, anyway.

I'm ADHD, with a dark past,

who always gets picked last.

Though I feel happy inside most days,

I love the rain, the wind, the gray,

I'm not a Martha Stewart; or a June Cleaver,

I'm not first-lady material or in political favor.

I'm a philosopher, a poet, a moody writer.

A mama bear champion fighter.

I fall in with a vintage crowd.

I try never to let my family down.

I've learned to love myself, for who I am,

a mix between my mom, modern-day women, and my gran.

I'm an artist, a creator, a doomsday prepper

and I love the theater.

I hate doing dishes and folding laundry is a chore,

my bad attitude could win me a high score.

We all have our gifts to share,

some gifts are used everywhere.

I can listen, and care, give advice when asked,

I have empathy because of my past.

I thought I needed to be the woman in pearls,

she's a friend, a leader, a ship with all furls.

She runs a tight ship when it's stormy and gray,

Future CEO of the next big foray.

I never liked wearing pearls anyway.