She draws
an amoeba me

thinks twice

then adds crude
hands & feet
that look like sticks

then as an afterthought
with a sweet quavery smile

...a sweet quavery smile.

I know it's me
'cos I ask her.
'What is it? '

'It's you! '
she admonishes
'Oh..! ' I say
pointing to the empty amoeba

where there is a large space
of nothing.

'What's all this then? '

'I hadn't filled it in...yet! '
she says with disgust.

She draws a big beefy
red raw heart

squarely at the centre.

'There...that's you! '

'Exactly! '

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/amoeba-me-for-lyn/