I've heard that my eyes are endless. Pools to drown in... And that my legs are thick, and soft, And warm like home. It's been said that I Play with poetry like Finger paints. And that my laugh is a ferris wheel, Or honestly. And apparently, I'm just too cute. Apparently, it's just too hard not to love me.
If they saw what I see (the truth), the poem would read: Green blue glass Mirrors Pale and stocky Stumps Open on a Clumsy girl.