She ain’t good at singing
Heck,
She’s worst at dancing
She’s got turtle’s feet,
You know
Her mascara smears out,
Every time.
She reads, and writes
And she reads, and writes
Just like me
You know.
She smiles, rarely
She laughs,
Though loudly enough.
She ain’t cool
Sassy, apparently
She speaks, rarely
Though she talks
A lot.
Heck, don’t know
What to write ahead
She’s dreaming
Right now
You know
She promised
To give this poem
A title
But she’s dreaming
So till that
It’s called
Untitled.