This is a weird poem. Yesterday in history, my friend Emily was wearing a white scarf. She wears scarves a lot and has a lot of different ones, and the one she wore yesterday reminded me of something my mom had said a month or two earlier.
"Some people can get away with scarves, and they really zest up an outfit. They don't look good on me, though."

So I started writing a poem about how only some people could get away with scarves, but it wasn't very good. It was open and cheesy. Then, all of a sudden, out spilled the first couple lines of this poem. (Up to "anorexic bitch")

I finished the second half today, and it was hard to match the end with the beginning because I liked the first part so much. Anyway, I'd really like some help on this.

Obviously this is not bashing gay guys, hookers, or even anorexic bitches. I don't like how it ended up sounding that way.