Yes, he is your over-sized jeans
And resemblance of a skinny teen
The same guy with
Misused eau-de-toilette
That quirky, indignant scream.
But wasn't the skinny in him
This fat that we are trying to breach
And trying to reach
To a better number
For our dresses
And then we could festoon
Our already beautiful tresses
To become the fabrication
Drawn from strange addresses
And leave no stone unturned
To build up a dream
With blue polished nails
And dainty high heels
However so
If you’d want to know
The truth about his simple life
Full of the pseudo every things
And the sulky continuity
Of his moody, observant eyes,
The thing is, my friend,
That he did know the end
He did sense the vivid textures
He did judge in his indifference
He was not the first rave
He was not the last rant
He was, a possibility of possibilities
One, that only could have been
-K.G.
And resemblance of a skinny teen
The same guy with
Misused eau-de-toilette
That quirky, indignant scream.
But wasn't the skinny in him
This fat that we are trying to breach
And trying to reach
To a better number
For our dresses
And then we could festoon
Our already beautiful tresses
To become the fabrication
Drawn from strange addresses
And leave no stone unturned
To build up a dream
With blue polished nails
And dainty high heels
However so
If you’d want to know
The truth about his simple life
Full of the pseudo every things
And the sulky continuity
Of his moody, observant eyes,
The thing is, my friend,
That he did know the end
He did sense the vivid textures
He did judge in his indifference
He was not the first rave
He was not the last rant
He was, a possibility of possibilities
One, that only could have been
-K.G.
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