Some women have fried eggs which are flat. You can easily mistake them for a place mat. While others have cantaloupes that are round. Whenever men see them, they become astound. Some have little ones the size of a gum drop. Most women were lucky, because they were overdevelop. Those women who were blessed become very hoggish. Turning their pointed noses, making them snobbish. When I saw mine, I cried and became hysterical. My genes were held in contempt for a felony technical. I realized at an early age, that mine would stay fried. So, I brought large padded bras; my size, I often cried. I am content with my fried eggs being a feather weight. Hoping with modern technology to become a heavy weight. Copyright (C) 1995 Marva L. Dowdin
Reason for writing:
I am sure many women feel as I do about their size. It is
something that we can either cry over or laugh about. I
hope the later. This is one on many from my collection of
many poems from my poetry books. Marva L. Dowdin
Birth sign: Not entered
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