The Beauty
i don't know what to say here,
i don't know why i try
i only know that when i see you
a part of me dies.
your skin is so pure
white as fresh laid snow
lush, full hair flowing
I wish I was your beau
i could get lost in your
clear blue eyes
forever and a day
so big and round in size
Your legs so long
supple and taunt
peeking from your skirt
legs of a debutante
your crooked tooth
peeling cracked lips
and all that pie
goes straight to your hips.
still, i could love you
love is blind after all
i have felt a stir
give me your number so i can call
but!
you smell, oh do you smell
my nose hairs coil
and my toes do curl
did something in you spoil?
the smell is half way rotten eggs
and putrid old warm milk
how i long to hold
and wrap you up in silk
but the stench is far too much
it's you i'll never touch.
Copyright © Deborah Foster | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment