Hypochondriac
My face is covered
In splotches
My hair is dull and brown
My stomach bulges
And my butt is fat
My back- it aches
My head- it throbs
I stubbed my toe
Again
He looked at me
She pulled my hair
And at my clothes
The always stare
My side- it pains
My finger’s jammed
And in the door
My hand was slammed
There’s a moth
I scream with fright
I run away
With all my might
My room’s dark
My feet are cold
And there’s the boogieman
I was told.
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