i am not a barbie doll
this face is bare and I'm not tall,
with only my corpus i came forth,
with only my smiles i went up north.
does people see my eyes or my wit?
or do they stare at my masculine-built?
is it them who scared me to death?
or is it me going cuckoo like McBeth?
please, sir, i am not gorgeous,
but hear me roar from this urges,
long legs, firm thighs pink bosoms,
have those not, but i am awesome.
i notice i'm a bit rough,
i realize i never have enough,
i fear i used too many i's,
but i have to speak up or i'll die.
no i am not a pretty thing,
so take me seriously for whatever I'm saying,
beauty is temporary and beauty never last,
sit tight then, and have a great blast.
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