Tuesday, 20 January 2015

She.

She is the words of an Elvis Costello song,
She's the manic pixie dream girl who can do no wrong.

She lights up an entire room with her smile,
She has nothing but kindness in her eyes.

She's fodder for such schoolboy poetry,
She's perfect - just as you expected her to be.

But then perfection is a folly,
And if she's perfect, how real could she be?

She's a bundle of contradictions,
She's a raw mass of nerves,
She's knobby knees and crooked teeth,
She's the round peg in the square hole,
She's a live wire that makes life seem full of rich possibilities.

She's nothing like the flabby mass of cliches you've grown to love,
But if you give it sometime, you'd see she's a gift from above.
Post a Comment