There is a poem I want to write
but can’t seem to begin to.
It’s just hanging over my head,
like a bounty of million.
It’s been bugging me,
like a fly buzzing.
I’m running out of good rhymes,
as you’re running out of time.
I am sorry, I am grateful.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take some of these sweets,
some baked goodies with familiar names.
They might taste a bit different,
perhaps the fruits will, too,
because they’re kissed by the warmer sun.
But I could pick more for you,
if you should want.
But I will try to stay on my side of the field.
I will stay under my shade at the beach.
If I could have last five feelings,
I would save them all for you.
If tomorrow I could be a ceiling,
I want to be in your room.
For the last time, I’m sorry.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.