short poem

14 2 0

her hair flicks and  hands wave.

he walks past smelling of aftershave.

one kiss they have together

a tear forms like a falling feather.

how the hell can he be with her.

I know she is like red silver fir

but really? them two together?

makes me look forward to bad weather.

I thought he'd ask me out on my birthday.

but he asked her.....on my birthday.

yep I loved that birthday present

good god im not in heaven

short poemWhere stories live. Discover now