She Wasn’t My Type
Her skin was alabaster & her eyes were blue.
She could win your heart by looking at you.
Her hair was long & blonde, like the sun.
You knew for sure that she would be more fun.
But, she wasn’t my type.
Friends asked me “What’s wrong with you?”
“She has really been looking at a few”
“You’re the one she has been looking at the most.”
“Yet, you ignore her like she was a ghost.”
But, she wasn’t my type.
She seemed as friendly as can be.
She even moseyed right up to me.
She had a great personality.
She was everything you could want her to be
But, she wasn’t my type.
She would laugh and joke and carry on.
She acted like this was where she belonged.
There were people enchanted by her.
She seemed an angel to them, for sure.
But, she wasn’t my type.
My best friend said “Tell me now.”
“She is not big, like a cow.”
“She has a body that won’t quit.”
“How can you turn down that trick?”
I said “She’s my sister.”
————————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2015)