He's as straight as a curved line
Or so we speculate, or so he denies
A thousand signs, a million hints
Never as refreshing as an evening mint
He praises the men who live in the screen
Projected in front for all to be seen
“Is he attracted?” we ask
“Or is he just trying to bring joy so that his sadness will be masked?”
Deeper and deeper the bird plunges
Smaller and smaller the sky gets
His limbs flow and soon, suffocated
The days of his junk is dated
A sudden movement, always an explosion
Always seems intoxicated by a freak potion
Unnecessary but not always unwanted
But still every inch of his body is demented
His wretchedness is our pleasure
The distance between his pain and our joy cannot be measured
I say, everything in the universe is against him
We say, his very existence is sticky and dim
Angry mom
Uncleaned room
Missing chair
Math grade in doom
Lost books
Crossed and shaky legs
Blemished looks
Intermediate pad in despair
Rotten eggs
Sudden rain
Dancing legs
Junk in pain
Moldy bread
Virused usb
Relationship with girlfriend now dead
Showing off his bare body
Humongous hands
Side comments
Life never bland
But forever in lament
Alas, I bombarded him with questions
He states that he feels no hatred is most situations
Sometimes we wish that his life would change
But that would make our own very strange
Bird = v neck
Sky = skinny jeans
Here's a poem that I wrote back in 9th grade about the 3rd weirdest guy in my class. I'm sorry that I wrote this poem, Julio Laforteza. Gosh I'm so mean.