Sometimes I put on nicer clothes
Put some effort into my outfit
So I can continue to sit at my at my desk
Looking good for no one but me
And that's enough

It was just a Thursday
Mrs. Howell told us to read the Frankenstein excerpt by Tuesday
We didn't really care
We were only gonna be out 2 extra days
Just a long weekend
Whatever

I am tone deaf at the very least pretty bad at singing
And I have plenty of flashes of self-doubt
And sometimes I stop myself when I'm with other people
But I've found the truth is that people don't care
They kinda realize I'm having fun
Or maybe I realize it
I hope you realize it too
Do what makes you happy
Sing in the car

Why are they numbered
It feels like there's more to it
It's just what I like

Might never return
But does it really matter
I don't think it does

I do it for me
Maybe someone will notice
They might think it's cute

A crisp cold can of coke
I like writing about coca cola
It's my favorite drink to drink
There's something so good about writing it
A crisp cold can of coke
It springs to mind and to tongue like coke from a soda fountain with a simple depression of the little lever
Nothing is more evocative than the crack, snap, or pop of a crisp cold can of coke
It brings forth fond memories
Of childhood and summer and my ex girlfriend and my grandma
And some of my favorite artists too
Andy Warhol and Frank O'Hara for example
I like to think they share my sentiment
That there's almost nothing better than a crisp cold can of coke
It's something so American and something so mine
There's nothing I'd rather have on hot or a cold day
Then a crisp cold can of coke

The crack of a coke can
Takes me back
To summer days
We woke up
You came over
I made some sandwiches
We shared the same plate

If your amazing poem is too long for the line just cut it off because that wa