poem

 

i never have anything to say,
uhmmm

the weeping birch,
which you dislike,
you showed me proudly

and detailed your future with it,
so happy to be
talking about a plant you just made fun of,

also your roommate,
he did not help in anyway,
sitting there like, well - a loser

but i guess you’ve known him
for some time now,
so i get it

i just wish
he wasn’t here