Looking For My Ass

Where for art thou,

My old and missing friend,

You seemed to disappear with a pow,

And I thought we'd be together until the end!

I remember when they all looked at you,

The way you filled out those old Guess jeans,

Worrying about pants staying up, not something I had to do,

Nor would it ever be in my wildest dreams.

Over the years you had shrunken down,

Often reminding me to wear a belt,

Until I realized you left, and I began to frown,

You can't imagine how that felt.

My ass, please come home to me,

You kept my jeans from hanging too low,

I promise many squats to help work on thee,

So my jeans, no lower will they go!

Dammit, all to hell,

Where's my ass!