Bra's

Yep;

My bra's broken again,

And my boobs don't even know what size they are!

Am I A,B,C,D,E,F?

Am I in the double?

Why am I always in such trouble?

To the underwear department we go,

Even the lady can't fit me, woah!

Maybe I'm a Z,

I'd rather be an E!

So droopy draws again,

My pain it never ends.

But for all you men and women,

Who stare at my boobs,

Please stop!

I hate them,

They are maternal but not material,

And;

You're staring makes me feel,

Uncomfortable.

Yes;

I can still joke,

But my boobs are not

yours to poke.