I downloaded Duolingo,
thought, “Cool, I’ll learn some French!”
But now that little owl
got me living on the bench.

I opened it for practice,
just fooling around,
but now I know Korean—
about two hundred words down!

I practice small sentences,
I sound kinda neat,
like (saranghae) —
and sometimes (shebal!) in heat.

Chinese is harder,
I’ll admit with a sigh,
but hey, twenty words—
I can still order chai.

I skipped one single lesson,
just ONE—don’t roll your eyes,
next thing I know he’s texting me:
“Practice… or goodbyes.”

I chase K-dramas nightly,
my goal is quite clear:
understand the crying scene
before subs appear!

But the owl is relentless,
he haunts me in my dreams,
taps on my window,
and silently screams.

I drill German phrases
before I even pray,
and sometimes I swear I hear him whisper:
“Now… Italian with me.”

So if one day you see me
laugh, gasp, or freeze,
just know it’s not me losing it—
it’s that green-eyed nightmare
telling me to learn… or else.