Boils, zits,
Whatever you call them,
They are the pits,
I absolutely hate them!
They always appear
Before a date,
Red and shiny...
Oh, spots I really hate!
You try to cover them up
But they just stand out more,
I really loathe spots!
Whatever are they there for?
All oily and big,
Ones you just have to pick...
I think spots
Get on everyone's wick.
They materialise in a cluster
Or a whopper on their own,
Whenever you get one
All you want to do
Is stay holed up at home.
I suppose you've realised by now
That this poem is all about spots,
They really do drive me
Completely dots!
About spots
I just wanted to have a moan,
But now I must go to bed
So sorry if you've read this to the end
I bet by now you'll be thinking
That this girl is off her head
And totally round the bend!!