Muscle Poems

He lifts my spirits 

And informs me well. 

I am reassured 

This Man is Himself. 

Although I wear my hair 

In a tight bun, 

I am a deep critic of people, 

A substantive one. 

To the core I am rotten

I don’t think to take care 

When there is a handsome moon

In the night with my underwear 🩲. 

In the shower I laugh

But most days not

Unless He bequeath me

With the Grace I have lost. 

Yet, at this time, and as many a moon 

Hath reminded me 

When there’s nothing else on, 

That He is so fair, 

And loves me as myself 

Though I may have to remind him

This romantic nobleman, that

I’m nothing like the Sun.