I admit, I’m not that pretty;
it can sometimes make you shitty,
and although my looks may not be so good,
I’m the nicest man in this neighborhood,
for I’m always there to warm your heart.
On occasion, I know I can be silly;
please, I didn’t mean to insult you, Lily.
Though I aced my way through school,
I can be quite the young fool,
being a trouble-maker from the start.
When it comes to writing, I’m not half bad,
my talents making some shit writers mad;
however, when I speak, I seldom think,
my clumsy words turning your cheeks bright pink,
when we attend gatherings with our friends.
I know, I can be difficult to be around,
not knowing which of my emotions will be found
when you spend more than an hour with me;
at first there’s happiness, then I’m angry.
My love is real though – that I don’t pretend.
I enjoy clasping my hand around yours;
apologies, on behalf of my pores.
I realize, I sweat so very much,
your skin becoming wet from just one touch,
though not in the way I would wish.
Sometimes I can be blue; I’m naturally sad,
being unable to help, can drive you quite mad,
even though you are never at fault –
but if you look inside my heart’s vault,
you’ll see, you’re my favorite dish.
This poem was written in response to the ‘imperfect’ prompt for #introtopoetry