Someone Stole My Breasts

This poem was inspired by a post my friend Corina wrote. I was so self conscious about my size, or lack thereof, for years. All I can say is thank God you don’t always get what you pray for when you are young!

Someone stole the breasts that I was meant to have.
Or, maybe in chest size, I took after my dad.
Year after year, I waited for them to appear,
they are still so small I don’t need a brassiere.
I can run down the street with nary a bounce.
They probably weigh less than an ounce.
Sagging is something that will never effect me.
No, my breasts will never hang down to my knees.
So, concerning the breasts I never had,
I guess the good outweighs the bad.
To whoever is walking around with my breasts:
you can keep them ‘cuz I am happy with my chest!