Horror Poem
It was Saturday night, time for the dance.
There in my wardrobe, a little black dress.
A formal affair so I couldn’t wear pants.
I’m a vanity queen, I must confess.
I looked in the mirror, just a short glance.
The dress was all wrinkled, needed a press.
Smoothing the skirt there were terrible signs.
The little black dress, showed my panty lines.
I thought about this to make a decision.
My reflection was awful making me moan.
My little black dress may need a revision.
Panty lines showed, where my hips had grown.
This horrible sight that I did envision.
When I bought this dress I was skin and bone.
There’s only one way to impress the guys,
So under my dress is a naked surprise.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
