I spill food on every lovely white dress
I am the one in the center of every mess
I drop the spoon, drop the glass, drop the book
I am the one with the perpetual ‘oops' look
I slip on the shiny marble floor
I smack on every glass door
I stumble on things that aren't even there
I see the proper poised ladies and life doesn't seem fair
Pretty, delicate and fragile things aren't for me
I am ‘miss butterfingers' you see
‘I am the cursed one' is my belief
But whatever, I am happy I am the comic relief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem