Living With Labels

A man seated at the table
Asked who or what are you
What labels can we pin on you
Just what is it you do

Done a lot of many things
Not great at any one
Almost a jill of many trades
Though I mastered none

But you must have a label
He insisted with a grin
We must find you a label
A lot to fit you in

There are the easy ones
We might put you in
Age and sex and hair
The color of your skin

Those are the obvious ones
Be with you for life
And since you are married
You might be a wife

But it wouldn't work out
I was tired and shaken
As I had come in late
The way ones were taken

Ah he said I have a thought
something that I heard
You can maybe turn a phrase
Or pretty up a word

Yes he said I see it how
In every way you show it
I'll make you up a label now
You can be a poet