Make Me Pretty In Your Writes. Poem by Kyle Shield Laster

Born I was to homeliness.
Not ever a size four.
Content I am with chubbiness,
But can I not have more?

Read, I, of your literature.
Although you are no great.
Still your words do wreck my soul-
And rid it of debate.

Several seas divide us
And you know me not at all,
But won't a loving stranger-
Give a cushion to my fall?

Yes indeed I'm asking-
So I've never sleepless nights;
Cheer my brow and flatter!
Make me pretty in your writes.