Sweet Cheeks

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pointed slopes of obtuse angles, 

More like a cute angle,     

Are more than right.

 

                Pink as roses, white as snow

                                                  Red like poppies                     

                                                                 Burnt sienna rogue

 

Everywhere there are new 

                                                    Ways to look at a 

                         Fresh face, we try so hard. 

 

Today, those angles are 

                           Juicy peach

                                  Lemon leaches bleach away. 

 

Tomorrow I'll be new angles 

                                and you can say           

                                                                 How they aren't true angles 

 

But I'll know these cheeks 

Are perfect. 

 

 
 
 
 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741