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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1446005-The-Gift
by Lisa A
Rated: E · Poetry · Opinion · #1446005
A poem about me or should I say what I think of me.
It’s like a gift that has been given to me
They say I have been blessed
From the stride in my walk
To my Oh so sensual caress
That makes men fall for me
And tell me I'm the best
From my bold brown eyes
To my full luscious lips
Where they seem to stare, hanging on
As I pass with a sway from my voluptuous hips
My mysterious smile
Who couldn't help but to adore
It is what keeps them coming back, begging for more
I've been told that I'm a work of art
A portrait so beautiful
God couldn't keep me to himself
I had to be shown and praise by everyone else
I can barely stand to stare in the mirror
Because of the reflection I see
I'm so magnificent I get jealous of me
It’s crazy I know
And I appear to be so vain
But perfection like this isn't easy to explain
What makes me so incredible?
I'm flawless on the inside too
I guess beauty sticks to me
Like ignorance to a fool
I am the image of perfection
I am everything you want to be
And if you can imagine it
It can be found within me
So go ahead and adore me
I am use to it you know
Living a life this glamorous
Never seems to get old
Maybe if you stand close enough
Some of my greatness will rub off on you
I have so much I can fill a room
But be careful because it can be harmful
If not handle well
After all you’re not me because
My greatness shall prevail.
© Copyright 2008 Lisa A (bluerebel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1446005-The-Gift