We all have that one special person
With who'm we share our fears
Our love, our thoughts and mostly our meals
In my case its a her
Who has tortured me for too long
And now sometimes I realise
How much I would miss her if she were gone
She steels all my dresses
From lipsticks to purses
And its not long until she comes for my pulses
And I know she thinks she's pretty
But there's something she doesn't know
That no matter how hard she tries
She'll always resemble a gnome
And i wish i could tell her
How much she means to me
But the truth of the matter is simple
I hate to be chopped from one peice
In the end I'd like to disclose
The name to all the misses
It was after all my stupid sister
It was her birthday
And it would have been wrong
If I wouldn't have written this poem
For my big bottomed tart