I could write a thousand, stupid poems,
About the reasons I like you,
But then I'd be like everyone else,
And that just wouldn't do.

So I'll take the time to write just one,
About the few things that bother me,
There really aren't that many of those,
Don't believe me? Well, you'll see.

You rarely text me anymore,
You never, ever call.
Sometimes I go so long without talking to you,
I don't remember why I liked you at all.

The way you talk confuses me,
I rarely understand what you say.
And every time we try to make plans,
You end up being "busy" that day.

So after writing all these things, I'm not sure about my choice.
Is it really worth trying to be with you,
If I never hear your voice?