(no subject)
May. 11th, 2002 01:46 amA B C D
double D
Who rewrote the alphabet
to undermine a woman's self esteem?
The size of her breasts
you must confess
does not reflect the spirit within.
And so when once
I heard my friend declare
"You should meet my friend, she's got big tits"
I felt struck
shrinking back in horror
It's not the first time I've
been this described
but I never thought
I'd hear it from her
Let me explain
I'm not ashamed of my natural form
The curve of my lips
the spread of my hips
the way my waist goes in
and yes
even the swell of my breasts
clothes me
robes me
in a cloak of womanhood
And I have nothing against breasts themselves
they are pleasing to the eye
to the touch
to the tongue
and in a sweet mysterious way
they feed life
As a body part they are perfectly fine
some might even say sublime
but still they are simply
one piece of the whole
And if I need to define myself
by a piece of my anatomy
why not my strong lungs
flying feet
or clever hands
It may be that the reason
so many focus on these round adornments
is that they find them the defining
characteristic
of la femme
but still,
skinny women with
silouettes like sticks
are just as feminine as I
Like every sister they ebb and flow
with the tides
pulled by the moon
They cry out in ecstasy
from the ministrations
of a skillful lover
and laugh with joy
for the children drawn
from their wombs
So why then do women feel
their worth is wound up
in these mounds of flesh?
Behind any pair of breasts
can stand a great woman
for there is no correlation between
the dimensions of a bra
and the depth of the soul
But still those on the quest
for the ideal breast
will not rest
till the perfect silicon size
is their prize
or else excess flesh is plucked off
shucked off
whittled to a masterpiece
And when their bodies
reject these alien sacks
their hosts can rejoice
in the fact that they're stacked
they've got a great rack
what a great consolation
when you don't have your health
And those who've been pared down
can be careless
go braless
wear any dress
and still enjoy a caress
the same way they could before
After this game of musical bodies
the players find
that when the music stops
they are still the same inside
Now as a lure of the sexual kind
I do agree breasts
are the best you can find
and they excel as a tool
to manipulate
the masculine fool
But the worship of them
takes away the joy
when you become a sexual toy
for middle aged man
or adolescant boy
I am sick of hiding my largess
under baggy shirt
or formless dress
but I missed when people looked me in the eye
when instead of the being
the girl with big breasts
I was the girl with a great smile
an outward expression of my character
And so I rejoice in my friends
that find the size of my mind
is more important than the size of my chest
and look forward to the day
when someone will say
"You should meet my friend
she has a great personality."
double D
Who rewrote the alphabet
to undermine a woman's self esteem?
The size of her breasts
you must confess
does not reflect the spirit within.
And so when once
I heard my friend declare
"You should meet my friend, she's got big tits"
I felt struck
shrinking back in horror
It's not the first time I've
been this described
but I never thought
I'd hear it from her
Let me explain
I'm not ashamed of my natural form
The curve of my lips
the spread of my hips
the way my waist goes in
and yes
even the swell of my breasts
clothes me
robes me
in a cloak of womanhood
And I have nothing against breasts themselves
they are pleasing to the eye
to the touch
to the tongue
and in a sweet mysterious way
they feed life
As a body part they are perfectly fine
some might even say sublime
but still they are simply
one piece of the whole
And if I need to define myself
by a piece of my anatomy
why not my strong lungs
flying feet
or clever hands
It may be that the reason
so many focus on these round adornments
is that they find them the defining
characteristic
of la femme
but still,
skinny women with
silouettes like sticks
are just as feminine as I
Like every sister they ebb and flow
with the tides
pulled by the moon
They cry out in ecstasy
from the ministrations
of a skillful lover
and laugh with joy
for the children drawn
from their wombs
So why then do women feel
their worth is wound up
in these mounds of flesh?
Behind any pair of breasts
can stand a great woman
for there is no correlation between
the dimensions of a bra
and the depth of the soul
But still those on the quest
for the ideal breast
will not rest
till the perfect silicon size
is their prize
or else excess flesh is plucked off
shucked off
whittled to a masterpiece
And when their bodies
reject these alien sacks
their hosts can rejoice
in the fact that they're stacked
they've got a great rack
what a great consolation
when you don't have your health
And those who've been pared down
can be careless
go braless
wear any dress
and still enjoy a caress
the same way they could before
After this game of musical bodies
the players find
that when the music stops
they are still the same inside
Now as a lure of the sexual kind
I do agree breasts
are the best you can find
and they excel as a tool
to manipulate
the masculine fool
But the worship of them
takes away the joy
when you become a sexual toy
for middle aged man
or adolescant boy
I am sick of hiding my largess
under baggy shirt
or formless dress
but I missed when people looked me in the eye
when instead of the being
the girl with big breasts
I was the girl with a great smile
an outward expression of my character
And so I rejoice in my friends
that find the size of my mind
is more important than the size of my chest
and look forward to the day
when someone will say
"You should meet my friend
she has a great personality."
Bravo