| Me |
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| Poem written by Andrew Rowell. | |
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My impurities are many And are very plain to see, But I wear them all with pride as I go on Like my over-sized ears, That are made fun of by my peers. I recall their parents and all the laughing’s gone. Though my eyesight isn’t special, I just think of where I got it, And all my doubts about it are erased, And although my teeth aren’t straightened, Their heritage cannot be greatened. If I had the chance, they wouldn’t be replaced. As I gaze into the mirror, And I see my freckled face, I think of where they came from and I’m glad. There’s a cowlick in my hair, But I hope it’s always there, ‘Cause I got it from my mother and my dad. |
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