A piece of paper was lying there
Right on the edge of my desk
It was just....laying on the wooden surface
Making it seem that it was there from the start
I hesitated for only a moment
Not that I actually care
About this smooth material
It's just...odd
For it to be for me,
Was it from those mean bullies?
They did something like this before
That was always a possibility
Was it from a secret admirer?
I do recall having a few
Could it be from the one
That works in that bookstore?
What about the person
That always wears his/her mask?
But I don't even know if their a he or she
Can it be from the person
That always ask if I could
Listen to their cd disk?
How about the one
That always thinks about space?
... Well who cares?
(Throws the piece of paper into the trash)
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Didn't see that coming did you?
YOU ARE READING
Dry tears'poems
PoetryThis are poems that I try creating and there is a (most) likely chance that they suck. They can be confusing, sad or just plain stupid. It really just counts what mood I'm in, or what type of style that I want to make the poem. Warming: there is a...
