Tired of your “how are you’s”
And the “anyways, what’s good”
As if the glorious description of my commute
Were something to brush off your shoulders
As if I wasn’t already trying
To hang my thoughts out above the sky
Like a fishing rod
Praying you’d clamp on tight and let me reel you in
Just so you’d understand the stars
I have so much to tell you
So I cast out to the sky once more
‘Cause these formalities are hurdles I can’t bring myself to jump over
I stumble every time.
Give me just a minute to compose myself again
So I can write you a sonnet all about the traffic I hit
A haiku about that one co-worker
An epic of the weather

Or perhaps I could be blunt,
I'm tired of this;
There are beautiful things
Complex and exciting things
Let me write you a poem...