Miss Unity

I find it nauseating to hear
That in a being lies no perfection;
Pleased I was when I came across her,
Indeed, one has been made!

She has an Indian hair,
With a Spanish face,
With the body of a Jamaican,
And a Polished set of nails.

She answered an English name,
And spoke with a British accent;
She showed me that her heart was Samarittan,
And that her power was American.

Her gold was Ghanian,
Her furniture, Ivorian;
The tea she drank was Chinese,
So she said as she stuck a Cuban cigar to her mouth.

Her car was German;
She walked with Italian shoes;
She looked at her Swiss watch,
And made a call with her Finnish phone.

She placed an order for Irish potatoes,
And beef from Namibia;
She shared her Danish cookies with me,
As she placed an order for a French wine.

I've never seen this kind of perfection;
I'l take her down the aisle;
I can share her with anyone; I'm not selfish;
Unity. Her name, is Unity.