There was a time where,
To describe how I appear
I would not hesitate.
It didn’t bother me that my size,
Was a reflection of how I ate.
I wasn’t really slim,
But to find that esteem,
Was kind of rare.
To say I was plump,
It made me ecstatic,
Cause what other girls may want,
I already had it.
I was pleased,
Even though at times,
I had to squeeze to get in attire.
I was admired,
For the way my proportions was perfectly placed,
And also the way that there would be no space,
For him in my jeans.
And how the nice sculptured body,
Would match the bright smiling face…
At that time, that was the case.
But now…
Feelings have change and now I wish,
That my extra proportions could be rearranged,
So that they wouldn’t be there,
That they would disappear,
And emulate what happened to my hair, my glory
But that’s another story…
Separating my closet made me say wow,
Cause it was sad how little clothes I had,
Compared to the ones that I couldn’t wear right now.
I strayed a little from pants,
And was drawn to skirts,
Because it camouflaged the parts of me,
That when looked upon, I hurt.
I guess it’s up to me, I’m doing it for me,
And other people’s comments,
Are inaudible to me.
Naturally there are seasons,
Numbered as four,
But personally I’m promising myself that this season,
Won’t come around anymore.
New season…
To describe how I appear
I would not hesitate.
It didn’t bother me that my size,
Was a reflection of how I ate.
I wasn’t really slim,
But to find that esteem,
Was kind of rare.
To say I was plump,
It made me ecstatic,
Cause what other girls may want,
I already had it.
I was pleased,
Even though at times,
I had to squeeze to get in attire.
I was admired,
For the way my proportions was perfectly placed,
And also the way that there would be no space,
For him in my jeans.
And how the nice sculptured body,
Would match the bright smiling face…
At that time, that was the case.
But now…
Feelings have change and now I wish,
That my extra proportions could be rearranged,
So that they wouldn’t be there,
That they would disappear,
And emulate what happened to my hair, my glory
But that’s another story…
Separating my closet made me say wow,
Cause it was sad how little clothes I had,
Compared to the ones that I couldn’t wear right now.
I strayed a little from pants,
And was drawn to skirts,
Because it camouflaged the parts of me,
That when looked upon, I hurt.
I guess it’s up to me, I’m doing it for me,
And other people’s comments,
Are inaudible to me.
Naturally there are seasons,
Numbered as four,
But personally I’m promising myself that this season,
Won’t come around anymore.
New season…
