Women Are Fickle

Women are fickle

When it comes to men.

We are prideful

And shameless,

About those we love.

We are happy

When with you,

And sad when

We’re not.

We take your word as gold

And learn how to melt it

To our own desires.

Women are just fickle

Like that,

As we try

And not be so overbearing

When really we aren’t,

We are just thinking

Of the greater good—

Mostly.

When we want—

You better take,

Because when it’s gone,

We don’t look back.

We are your everything,

And yet—

We are also nothing,

Playing seesaw with the moods

Of your heart.

We love your attention,

And feel neglected

When it’s gone.

We respect your space,

As you respect ours.

But we love to be reminded

Every so often that you haven’t died

In the meantime.

Women are fickle,

Loving and hating,

Wanting and needing,

Distant and cautious,

Always thinking,

Always wondering,

If we are good enough for you.

And if we’re not—

We don’t need to be told twice,

For we have our pride,

And there are always men to love—

Another man to love,

Who appreciate us,

The way we should be appreciated;

Who can stem our fickleness,

Hold our attention,

And steal our hearts.

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3 thoughts on “Women Are Fickle

  1. Very enjoyable. I was talking the other day about a women, of whom there are many, who criticised their husbands all their married life for their shortcomings in appearance, career, attention to themselves and anything else which came to mind and yet, in widowhood spoke always of what a wonderful man he had been without any sense of irony.

    • Thank you. And how very interesting! But then we women are like that. We can’t help ourselves. We care enough to comment and criticise, and later on, remember.

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