Yet another late night (well now very early morning) poem. Oh dear. >.<
You may have the perfect hair,
You may have the teeth,
You might have the perfect air
And grace, but I know what lies beneath.
You may have the perfect skin,
You may have the perfect nose,
You might have the perfect thin
Body, but I know all your woes.
Babe, sit down and listen. You can look at me and sneer.
Your eyes might gleam and glisten, but I know they’re with your tears.
Babe, don’t try to walk away. Because you’re just too ‘cool’.
You might be brilliant at ballet, but I know that you’re a tool.
You may have the perfect looks,
You may have the perfect guy,
You may have a million facebook
Friends, but I know that your life’s a lie.
You’re blonde, you’re tall, you’re a size two.
You’re smile is just divine.
But the truth is; no one likes you.
Because all you do is whine.
You whinge about your lover.
You backchat all your friends.
It’s time for you to discover.
That it’s too late to make amends.
I’m not beautiful, I know.
I’m not every boy’s dream.
But, geez, I’m glad that I’m not you.
The thought would make me scream.
