'Getting It Off My Chest' Poem by Linda Winchell

I am glad you stopped over to talk to me
I have something that I've needed to get off my chest.
It was that flippant way you looked at me
When I thought I was looking all my best!

If looks could kill I would now be dead!
What was that look really all about?
Did you not like the way I dressed?
When we were about to go out?

I had tried my best, as I have always done
To present a pleasant view of me.
But that night mister, your look took the cake!
And didn't leave a crumb on the plate for me!