What makes a compliment?
And why do we crave them so?
It’s loved on every continent,
And everyone praises those who give them so.
Yet there are no real rules,
Just many a fools,
Giving their idea of one.
We say what we think is nice,
We speak what we believe is true,
An idea of a complement.
But some fall hilariously short,
And some say of which can be met with much blue.
So what makes a compliment?
Is it the person receiving the words?
It’s there job to interpret the voice?
Must they dissect what the other says,
And hope to *** there interpretation is the correct choice?
So what makes a complement?
Is it the person giving the words?
Must they be masters of literature,
With the ability to prefect,
The ability to make immaculate,
The ability to speak with all the power of a poet?
Or is it someones job to do something deserving of one,
With the other person making the choice,
The choice of giving the person a deserving words that have been oh so beautifully spun?
Not at all.
A complement is complement because we say so.
There are no rules.
Just what each person knows of each other in this world of fools.
A complement is complement because both people are happy with what is said.
It’s a personal idea for only those two people’s head.
Snap chat's recent "Send X if you care about me" spam decide to make write about what a complement is.