I am not sure at all
If I like not being tall
I must say it has its
Way of getting in the way
I can’t reach things
And alone too my dismay
I can’t look you in the eye
I have to stand on my toes
To even kiss you
So please don’t make fun of me
Because I’m only four-foot-eleven
But I don’t think it will stop
Me from showing you
What is inside of me
They say all good things
Come in small packages
I have tried everything I can
Even wearing heels that make
Me tall but then I fall
I laugh at my need to be tall
There’s nothing more to say
About what I feel about my
Height but oh my
What I wouldn’t give to
Be even five-foot-three
