Sometimes when I look at myself in a mirror,
I picture me up for bid at an auction house.
Describe the condition of the item,
All the buyers are coming out.
I am not exceptional, acceptable.
A twenty something Chandler Bing in present tense.
Look he uses jokes at his defense.
I see he functions pretty well
But the description has a lot tell,
If he should inhale a certain smell
He could drop dead.
It's like a wild card, the bids would start
Questions fired, they aren't going far.
How's his education, how about social relations?
Opening my mouth to answer,
They aren't waiting.
I heard he went to college!
Oh, I heard that he dropped out.
I heard he never misses work,
I heard that's the only time he goes out.
Does he eat, there isn't much meat on his bones?
Maybe he should grow ****** hair,
Maybe he won't.
I leave the mirror,
I have work in a moment.