I have not written a good poem about you since our freshman year in college when I was still a drop out and the leaves were this odd orange color that wasn't quite orange, but not really quite red either.
Frat parties are stupid.

I have not written a good poem about you since that time I curled up while puking on myself in my driveway after I said I loved you when I thought I understood what love was and that you were it.
Love letters are stupid.

I have not written a good poem about you since that time you drunk dialed me and said something about how you missed me or something and how I was great and you wished we could work out.
My friends are stupid.

I have not written a good poem about you since last week.
This is stupid.