Her(o)

If ‘Chub Rub’ made her thighs ignite she could be a Superhero
She pondered as she ate a croissant, one morning in Café Nero

She’d probably have a name like “Flame” (If not already taken)
She wondered as she walloped down her sausage, eggs and bacon

A really cool costume she’d probably have, the design of which won’t matter
As long as it’s something roomy and loose cut on the bias to flatter

No scaling tall buildings with the greatest of ease, she’s not cut out for these things
She could probably leap off a (fairly) high wall, with her cape and her bingo wings

When it comes to powers, perhaps she’ll read minds or shoot laser beams from her eyes
Of course she might just make cake disappear and grate cheese on her orange peel thighs.

She’s heard all the best one’s have awesome strength and maybe cute rocket boost boots
well she can lift an 8kg weight and pull dandelions up from their roots

Superheroes are brave, strong and bold (or so she’s heard it said)
Of course she’s already all of these things (and can turn the occasional head)

This Hero lark sounds like awful hard work, and she’s not one for causing a stir..
Lumps, bumps, wrinkles and all…she’s quite content to be ‘Her’

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