Tag Archives: Not a true story

It All Ends Here

“Where should we sit?” I ask.

She says “Anywhere.”

So I sit in the corner,

And she says “but not there.”

So we move to the middle,

Which she doesn’t like too much.

We sat outside, but the people

Were bums, singers, and such.

We walked out to Jamaica,

And she seemed ok with that,

And I went back to the corner

With a tip of my “are you really wearing that” hat.

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Filed under Poems