Reflections of my childhood
Sprang up on me today.
A mirror image of myself;
And then they went away.

My father says I’m pretty;
My mother thinks I’m smart;
My brother calls me stupid,
And quite the little tart.

Who am I really?  Who is to say?
It’s hard to tell whom I portray.
I am not Evil; I am not Good;
Mostly I’m Misunderstood.

And what you see is what you get.
Perfection’s not my name,
Nor is it Undependable,
Or even Scatterbrain.

That’s what my husband calls me,
When I lose track of time,
Or burn his favorite meal,
Or ask for his last dime.

Who am I really?  Who is to say?
Somehow I know that I’m Okay.
I am Laughter; I am Tears;
I’m my Buddy through the years.

I am Love; and I am Hate;
Joy and Sadness are my Fate.