Poem By Jessica Holt
Please do not compare me to her,
I fear it is her you’ll prefer.
She was perfect there is no doubt,
No need to always point it out.
I am far from the perfect girl,
Perfection makes me want to hurl.
My foot is always in my mouth,
My profession has headed south.
My skirt stuck in my panty hoes,
Important dates I do transpose.
Organization, what a joke!
Not to mention I’m always broke.
Don’t start in on my trips and falls,
One thing I do have though is balls,
To say what I think and tell you
If you’re that dumb then get a clue;
Losing me would be your downfall
If I can correctly recall;
You love me with all of my flaws
Our strong love being the main cause
Of working harder to get through
Quit the comparing, start anew.