I hate that I won't sleep tonight
Because there's homework to be done
Every time I stay up at night
The system knows it's won

I ain’t a ******* poet

But I made a poem for you

I made a poem about the relationship between us

How we were so close that I had lived inside you

How I wanted to stay so bad that they had to force me out of you

Because I knew at some point that I would have to leave you completely

But I didn’t know that it would turn out like this

Where you got so tired of me that you no longer looked at me with that love and adoration whenever I was even in your presence

How tired and exhausted you are of me living off your essence, draining you of energy and just looking at me would make you faint

Ten fingers and ten toes

Happiest sight to see after the confession that dad wanted me when you were ready to do a do-over

I wonder how many times you had looked at me and wish you had done the do-over

I don’t even know if the feelings I had are of animosity

or hurt

You’ve asked me if I hated you and you know I don’t

You’ve asked me if I loved you and you know I do

I wonder if the answers to those questions were yes and no

Cause I think that’s it now

I wouldn't be caught dead
Writing
A Ten Word Poem

By A Foreigner

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don't smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don't believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn't make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you **** somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn't done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says "Thank you."
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.