JUST AIN’T PERFECT
I wasn’t sure why
But I always wore jeans
When went out into the nights.
The air was still hot,
Sweaty and mean
But I’d picked up
The habit, and always
Wore those jeans.
Maybe deep down
I was embarrassed
About my legs
My little toothpick
Legs, pale and pathetic.
The only part of my body
Which a girl had made fun of,
Except for my big, fat head.
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