One of my friends laughed as she told me,
About a boy with messy hair,
Who was four and a half inches taller,
And texted her every day to say he did care.
He made her smile wider than the ocean,
And laugh better than a brook,
And one day their wonderful romance,
Will be written in a book.
But will it say all the details,
Like how his eye were always drawn to her,
And how when he was in the room,
Around thing around him was a blur?
Will it say how he was afraid,
Of what his report card said,
And how she was always dreaming,
With her imagination inside her head?
Because if I were to a write book,
About how perfect they were together,
I would tell all the little details,
Including how much he loved her.
Perfectly Imperfect Me 