Bags of skin and bones | poem

I am a bag made of skin and bones

Filled with pee, poo and hormones

So is that guy with headphones

Then how is he in the elite zone?

Cute girls fall for him at first sight,

Surrendering to him, at least for a night.

Leaving me alone in the moonlight,

Making me question about my plight.

Oh! It is the packing

It is all about the packing

Good packing is what am lacking

That is how he does the hacking

He is embedded with two shiny eyes

With a glowing skin to mesmerize.

Ah, nothing is on me to hypnotize,

Just an ugly face to recognise.

Yet, he is also a bag made of skin and bones

Filled with pee, poo and hormones.

So are those cute girls I adore

Then why worry about physical looks anymore?

Because,

All are bags made of skin and bones,

Filled with pee, poo and hormones.