Constantly

Constantly
People are pulling me in one direction or the other
And a third, fourth and fifth direction to boot.
It's like they think I'm mute, that I have
No direction of my own
But sometimes I walk alone, to the beat of
the proverbial drummer I have yet to meet
If I'm cold, I ask for heat
If I stand too long, I demand a seat
I don't wait for others to give me direction
And why should I? They say:
Young, too young to know what I want
Female, so I should depend on a man
I reject these excuses right out of hand
Cause my plan doesn't fit into the stereotype
I don't buy into the hype
2, 3, 4 roads diverged in a wood
and I might take as many as I could
Or not take any at all; preferring instead
To follow my feet
And if u decide to retreat, I won't be led
These thoughts are running thru my head
Constantly.