9 October 2012
Her lips aren't red as roses, Her skin has marks and scars, And when I gaze into her eyes, It's not like I see stars.
Her breath is not the sweetest, Her touch not soft and sweet, She hasn't dainty little hands, Nor legs long, or small feet.
She doesn't wear a smile, Every minute of the day, And when she gets a pimple, It's often prone to stay.
I wouldn't call her 'beautiful', But she and I are fine, She may not be a fairy tale, But she's real and she is mine.
To Be Real Is To Be Mine • Opuss № I