The Poetry Book

The Internet (Day 3)

(9:20 PM) Day 3: I still can't write poetry

I met a stranger today.

We talked for a little while, maybe an hour.

Then he asked for a picture, I said, "okay,"

But when I realized the mistake I'd made, my mouth turned sour.

I told him "I can't," and he said "oh, really?"

I told him my phone died (it was at 83%). "Aw that's too bad."

There was a moment of silence, then he told me I was a bitch.

My eyes widened. How could a stranger make me feel so sad?

So I logged off and grabbed a book.

Fuck that guys. He's such a dick.

I want to kick him in the nuts with my foot.

That didn't rhyme. Dammit.