Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
I was high when the call came.
Beer and pills
and too much green.
I was wasted when the call came.

The cheer struck up like a match caught flame
went up like a firework
from all these boys I barely knew
and they lit a J to celebrate.

Ninety-seventh percentile.
I could have just
drunk
my way into medical college.
Molly
Written by
Molly  Ireland
(Ireland)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems