These days she doesn't think about him that much:
Only from morning till night, and never when she's asleep,
Except when she dreams of him, Which only happens every other day or so.
That box set of the TV show he was always ranting about,
It was such a bargain she just couldn't let it pass, you see,
And she's only saving it for a rainy day, that's all.
It's not as if she's waiting for him to come back,
So that they can watch it together in that old couch,
Where she just can't understand how they both used to fit in.
--Who cares about Joss Whedon these days anyway?--
Not her.
She'd much rather watch documentaries on the History channel.
Nine Troys they've found, she learns,
One on top of the other.
And each and every single one of them
Was razed and scorched till there was nothing left.
Still they went and built another one,
Exactly on the same place.
Nibbling on her third chocolate sandwich of the day,
She rolls her eyes and thinks:
'Why couldn't they build it somewhere else?'
'Why people just never learn?'
