Skipping class to sway to Sinatra And read poetry with a romantic's heart
I reach for my own pen, inspired Curl up in the sunlight Words stutter out
And stay Stay on the page Not reaching for the stars or the moon Not leaping from this cage I will never make my dreams come true Now even sure what I dream of anymore What's worth wishing for?
Stay Stay in my room With a locked door and sweaters swallowing up Cold skin and frantic moods I will never cross paths with you At this rate, nor in fact with anyone Who's worth an open door?
Why bother hoping for more?
I had a nice afternoon and I wrote a depressing poem about it.