Not quite round,
Not quite square,
Can’t fit in this box
I have for you here.
You can’t think that!
Let alone utter it.
People like you,
Must take what you get.
Taking up space,
As if you own it.
Standing so tall,
You’d better go sit!
I’ll teach you
For acting ‘all that’,
How dare you defy me!
I’m all you’ve got.
But no, you insist
On just being you.
Tell me, dear girl,
What shall I make of you?
—
Copyright © Larisa McBean
LariMac 