Shes Perfect, and am not . (A Poem)

She’s Perfect, I see no errors when I look at her.

Her chocolate skin under the moonlight is a proof that God makes mater pieces,

Yet she refuses to spend time with me under the moonlight . . .

Her head is crowned with a dark, kinky hair . . . yet she wont let me comb my fingers through it.

Her lips are perfectly shaped . . .yet she wont let me touch them

Her sense of fashion reminds you of the master mind behind nature  . . . yet i haven’t ever gotten a complement for looking good.

She’s an amazing cook, . . . yet I have never had the proceeds of her pot.

She’s perfect, but the fact I can’t be a part of her perfection is imperfect.

She’s perfect, when she speaks there is never a dull moment . . . yet she won’t speak to me.

She’s perfect, when she dances, it’s an indescribable awe sight . . . yet she wont take my hand and dance.

She’s very funny, . . . yet won’t tell me jokes.

She’s selfless, yet I don’t get a real piece of her.

She feels pain perfectly well . . . yet she won’t let me be her comfort.

She’s sexual, yet  . . .

She’s perfect when she loves, but she won’t love me.


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