Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 3
I wonder if he knows I hate that shirt.  
How could he not?  
I’ve only said it
About him
Out loud
Every time he wears it
He probably wears it to spite me
For having the nerve to have an opinion
He has no obligation to look beautiful
According to my narrow standards
And when I say them
He spites me
By looking beautiful
Anyway
In that **** shirt
Written by
Krista Delle Femine  50/F/Massachusetts
(50/F/Massachusetts)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems