7:50 AM

This is my poem,
Of my worst day,
The worst day,
In the history of days,
And it’s only eight A.M.
But I know it’s the worst day,
Because I saw them this morning,
At 7:50 AM,
Kissing, by the lockers,
Our lockers,
The same ones we used to kiss at,
Because it was around the corner a bit where the teachers couldn’t see,
Couldn’t see that simple contact,
The mind blowing,
Head spinning contact,
That we used to share,
But now they are there,
By our lockers,
On the worst day ever.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback