I'll never be as pretty as Yoko

Dear Yoko Ono,

Oh how I wish I could overcome my jealousy regarding you, Yoko! I fear that my self-esteem is at an all-time low because of this realization: I can never live up to the example you have set for women everywhere.

I've tried and tried, but I can't write a good poem that conists of only one word the way that you can.

I've never even come close to breaking up the best band in the history of the world. Even mediocre bands don't think about breaking up over me.

I'm caucasian, I have short hair, and I'm tall - and if John Lennon were alive he would probably never look twice at me.
I'll never look good with raven-black hair, piercing eyes, naked on the cover of an avant garde CD of pure genius.

No Beatles (not even Ringo) have ever come to any of my art exhibits and taken a bite out of a display apple.

Oh Yoko! In the middle of the day I call your name and wish that I had your charm, talent, and good fortune. But for now I must settle for being me. And maybe one day I will be okay with that.

From your faithful fan, Christine Powell