You brought a new boy home
I don't know him
But I don't like himBecause he smells like cheap weed
And he talks like failureBecause he holds a bowl in one hand
And yours in the otherHe works in a Gas Station
And walks like he has nowhere to beBecause you deserve so much more
You deserve a man who smells like expensive cologne
And speaks like an artistA man who holds roses in one hand
And cherishes yours in the otherA man who works wherever he wants
And strides like he knows exactly where he's goingYou brought a new boy home.
YOU ARE READING
Butterflies come flying out [poetry]
PoetryThe words of a teenage girl with too many emotions and no other form of catharsis.