"geeky" poems
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do,
while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius.
One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself.
One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed
and easily embarrassing.
One friend is the previous friend's brother,
and crushes on me while never saying enough.
One friend is very intelligent and geeky,
and detests wearing skirts even more than I.
One friend is really in your face and dramatic,
pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him.
One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite.
One friend has hair of constantly changing color;
blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown,
but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice.
One friend has a thousand faux laughs,
but guards his true one from the light.
One friend has a mocking joke for everything,
and you can't help but laugh with her.
One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love
and understanding from a kindred spirit.
One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life.
One friend has a meme for everything,
and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters.
One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice
as much as me and explains everything beautifully.
One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature.
One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect
and hides behind her glasses.
One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs.
One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way,
and wears her square glasses in the best way.
One friend longs for a love that is loyal
and hide s behind his temperment
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
Men seldom made passes,
At girls who wore glasses,
But now the slipper's on the other foot:
Fashion has changed,
In this day and age,
And now, looking geeky, is good.
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 8:52 AM UTC
*A nerd who loves
numbers and letters.
A nerd who wears geeky
glasses and attends all
her classes. A nerd who
bathes in literature every
night and can speak to him
in the language of poetry.
He fell in love with a nerd
like me* ~
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
I like hearing you talk about Mozart
Because it means you’re listening.
His piano keys are no different from mine.
I like hearing you talk about Mozart.
I used to play his pieces before I sleep.
His arpeggio is my lullaby;
His laughter, a sombre tune to which I tune
My keys.
There’s no denying that you like Mozart;
Never mind his spending habit.
I sometimes think you are Mozart.
I think Beethoven was fad gone true because
He was deaf to his laughter,
And Schubert was too old, too young to remember
How to step on the pedals
While he tried his many operas
On his baby grand piano.
I think of Mozart in my sleep, in my dreams,
On the toilet, while eating.
I think of Mozart and his young son
And the requiem he stood dying to finish.
Mozart became a
One night stand, and I am not proud of that.
I majored in advertising, God knows why, and maybe
Mozart had something to do with that.
I factored one and two equals the sign of what digit,
And maybe Mozart had something to do with that.
I wrote a story once,
About a starving artist;
Maybe he was the force behind that.
I filled my library with fiction,
And fiction became a running schedule for me.
Maybe Mozart had something to do with that.
I’ve grown roots and sprouted horns listening to Bach;
I don’t think Mozart knew that.
But it was the size of the shoe that never fit me in third grade,
And the roots run as deep as a well of Hope grown asunder.
I knew Mozart would not like that.
And it was holy.
We are holy.
He was holy.
Mozart was holy. Mozart was holy.
Mozart was holier than a cow gunned for meat turned to steak
And corned beef on my breakfast sandwich.
Mozart was holier than a dishwashing paste advertisement
That promises oil free, squeaky clean Experience.
Mozart was more than a religious façade played in the sala
Of some affluent geeky teenager’s house
Where no one bothers to eat the garnishing.
Mozart was holier than Bach, Chopin, Stravinsky, Wagner.
His flute promised a princess to remain priceless.
Mozart was holier than Salieri.
Mozart knew better than Salieri.
Mozart played better than Salieri,
And he got the better of Salieri when Antonio himself said,
**** that Austrian ****** who plays, lives and howls like a show monkey.
**** this court.
**** this Emperor who can hardly keep together his fingers to play.
**** Austria.
**** Vienna.
**** this era of opera played in German that hardly sells a ticket.
**** this requiem and this boy,
This mad man, pint sized and hardly put together like a china doll.
**** this piano, and to hell with his lovers.”
I saw Mozart once. He waved at me.
I turned and looked away because I was listening to you talk about Mozart.
And I like hearing you talk about Mozart
Than Mozart talking about
Himself.
Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
appearances
appearances
appearances
we aren’t what
we seem,
are we?
but we are
what we seem
aren’t we?
how would
you know about
the drug-takers,
the child-rapists,
the murderers,
the doctors,
the racists,
the writers,
the sports-fan,
the obese,
the rage-filled,
the hateless,
if they didn’t
tell you?
what are they but
average joes
until they go
rob a bank
or
paint a master-
piece?
even
the very perfect,
like the president
or
your babysitter,
is probably hiding
something
maybe they’re
a *** addict
or a pill-popper
or a communist
but if you look
at them and
see a good little
child
or
a perfect
example of
human being
I highly
doubt that’s what
they really
are
I say this
simply because
people are not
perfect
but
society
refuses to let
them be their
misshapen
selves
so we hide it,
like all good
things,
and pretend
like we have no idea
what they’re talking
about
when somebody
makes fun
of our favorite
geeky tv
show
and that’s us
all appearances
all lies
all that we know
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 6:32 PM UTC
Weeaboo.
Owning this geeky word was not something I immediately understood.
Coming from a school where geeks were castaways,
with Otaku and weeb being even worse terms than that.
But now she, who loves video games, and cartoons
- a geek herself, dare I say, -
calls me a not only a weeaboo,
a term revered here,
but a failed one.
Many references I lack to see,
My circle of watched media is constrained,
me being the picky geek that I may be.
The simple act of putting on fluffy ears that I deem kawaii,
She takes as the action of a 'furry'.
I rarely see memes, something that not only geeks look at,
but social media as well,
yet she acts as though it lies within the domain of otakus.
Saying ohauyo, tadima, or even simply arigato,
gives me a snide reply of, "freaking weeb"
Making pebbles into boulders is her specialty.
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
His personality,
Geeky yet refined.
His knowledge incredible,
Even his love.
When you meet a guy,
Your heart screams try.
Mine did..
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
When weak people tease
You see as people go about every day life, they push people around a lot and also another thing they do as well, you see mate is try and tease in a way to make people jitter and even if they might not look like they don't know how to tease, they are teasing they are trying to bring all their friends together and tease them, and they are trying to tease the little shy boy, even if that they are little shy boys anyway, because at least I have a life and I want to be rich and famous, while people are trying to tease in so many ways, like one way they are prepared to say shut up **** every time he says something and when he goes on the computer, he can hear his dad saying be a little teasie, because his dad said that he us shy and some young hooligans said we'll kidnap him to tease him, even if they are trying to make him jitter, even if they are as weak as ****** **** you see people should do volunteer work and do are had write poems and be cool, while my dad is saying your still either a kid or a lady and my new mate is teasing me with his friends, first he invites me over, so he can be helped by me and then he invitesj some other mentally ill people over and started to tease me with his friends because he is saying that your still a little shy boy, and he will say that he ain't shy to complain about work and remain poor, just as
Long as he has his fun teasing, and he says that that you are still a defensive little **** and you know you need to realise that I ain't shy to tease you buddy, I will drink alcohol over you and then I will go to pub and have a few alcoholic beverages avd say that you are still getting teased even if it makes him look like a ****** geek, and only geeks tease like that anyway, because they try to tease in so many ways and even if they are little geeky kids, they try and avoid being treated like a geek by saying that they are a teasing but the thing is whether they are teasing or not, they are still a pack of geeks and they will all die long and painfull deaths, and they aren't really cool but they will say that they are teasing to avoid getting teased themselves, they are all a pack of shy ***** who really aren't coping with life very well, so they try and tesse, and that is the end of another instalment
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
<•>
BusBusNYC (A Live Love Bus App)
•<>•
if you made it this far, so fare one,
be undressed with thyself and impressed as well,
for thou joints me in holy matrimony upon a living map
where our presences can meet
in virtual real time as if eye new what that meant
but that blue dot is where this body possessed can be located by the nearest satellite finger snaking down from the heavens to Cain mark my foreheads location,
just like on Game of Thrones
don't you desire me, or rather,
the knowledge of mine
whereabouts?
the who of me, that very useful information, can best be
seen moving crosstown on the M72,
which is a mythological bus for in twenty years eye never
seen it come, go, though all its stops clearly marked
see me moving in fits and spurts of bursts of movement,
leaping streets and avenues in a single
unbounded, unstoppable superbus leap
in a city of anonymity where all who walk it streets,
ride the tides of its buses,
all ask a single Job-like question,
regardless of age,
"I am desirable, do you want me?"
eye say the ayes have it,
no,
this is not a great poem
but!
this live bus map app is the dating site ever created by
geeky human cells
alll this virtual meeting possibly leading to coitus
with a stranger while Pandora serenades
with perfect synchronicity, playing and plying us with
Romance for a Violin and Orchestra in F Minor,
a combination musical **** work of
Dvorak-Mehta-Midori
this bus app is
the social media's most immediate,
so meet me on the bus
at Broadway and 86 Street
where our metro cards can be
merged and we will be recognized
as a legal couple(ing)
in the eyes of MTA,
a multi-state agency and be bound in bustrimony
(legally married when riding on a city bus, only)
jeez, a crazy poem, not just, not a good one
but a true tale from the one who rides the buses and only
alights and delights with regaling tales and tellings
of love sortie sorrow maybe tomorrow the busbusNYC
app wil apply itself a smidgen better and
let me love you even with
a good under the hood
bus poem
but!
someday we will,
this, thy poet,
who does desire youalone,
will hijack you and a NYC bus,
and visit the poets from India and
the Great Northwest
won't that be a fabulous poem!
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 6:16 PM UTC
from Ida's height,
By the Fire-god sent, it came;
From watch to watch it leapt, that light,
As a rider rode the flame!
It shot through the startled sky,
And the torch of that blazing glory
Old Lemnos caught on high,
On its holy promontory,
And sent it on, the jocund sign,
To Athos, Mount of Jove divine.
Wildly the while, it rose from the isle,
So that the might of the journeying Light
Skimmed over the back of the gleaming brine!
Farther and faster speeds it on,
Till the watch that keeps Macistus steep
See it burst like a blazing Sun!
Doth Macistus sleep
On his tower-clad steep?
No! rapid and red doth the wild fire sweep;
It flashes afar on the wayward stream
Of the wild Euripus, the rushing beam!
It rouses the light on Messapion's height,
And they feed its breath with the withered heath.
But it may not stay!
And away -- away --
It bounds in its freshening might.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
if I said I like the pheromones emanating from your lips
its me trying to be geeky poet
after a geeky kiss
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
School is hard
School is right
School is like a card
Being played at night
School is boring
School is geeky
Sometimes the teachers catch me snoring
Because I"m not very sneaky
Everywhere I go
School is life.
It creeps up on me day and night.
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
I’m not the same girl
I used to be.
Then again, maybe I am
the same,
and it’s everyone
and everything else
that’s different.
Maybe I’m just not adapting
to the changes in my environment.
Maybe I’m still the
idealistic twelve year old
who read romance novels
and ate ice cream while watching Titanic.
Maybe I’m still the
anorexic fourteen year old
who smiled when the number on the scale dropped
and cried when it didn’t.
Maybe I’m still the
ambitious sixteen year old,
striving to put her life back together
and get laid before prom.
(Without much success, of course.)
Maybe I’m still the
infatuated seventeen year old
who fell madly in love with a geeky college boy,
only to get her heart broken.
Maybe I’m just
an eighteen year old basket case
who drinks too much
and smokes too much
and ***** random boys (and girls)
with all the lights off
because she hates her body just as much when she’s drunk
as she does when she’s sober.
Maybe I have changed.
Maybe I never will.
Maybe in the end,
however soon or far off that may be,
I’ll look back and laugh
at my complete and utter stupidity
and inability
to stop thinking and just start
living.
Maybe I’m already dead inside
and just waiting for my body to follow.
I don't intend to leave you all behind,
but I’m beginning to think I already have.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
I still remember the day you walked into my life. It was lightly raining and the sun was just starting to come out, but it was still dark and gloomy. It's funny how the moment I see that geeky-looking kind of guy, I never thought I'd be so in love with him till today. It's frustrating that I can't re-live that moment, but I'm happy that I've met you.
But, all of this jealousy seeing you with her, daydreaming and running away from life, it's not healthy for me. I am very sure that I love you as I keep on giving excuses for all the pain you've caused me. I still think of your feelings after all the pain. I was ready to be there for you even after ending things. This isn't healthy for me, I know, but I can't help it when it comes to you.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
Brian Allan is a punk
A punk a punk
Brian Allan is a punk
Who is so cool
You see I watch concerts
Cause I love them I love them
Brian Allan is a punk
And is the coolest dude around
You see watches Sydney swans in the footy and supports the raiders despite them only winning when they have no hope
Brian Allan is a punk a punk a punk
Yes Brian Allan is a punk
And he is so cool
You see he likes watching boxing to see who will win the title and if a geeky kid was being bullied he would come up to hassle the bully
Only to get locked in the locker next to the geek
You see Brian Allan is a punk
A very fine punk is he
He never gets into very much
Strife and dude can he be cool
You see Brian Allan gets wasted at parties turning the people away but deep down Brian Allan is a cool punk who really loves life in the way of being positive
Not worrying about the bad
Just stay positive in your life
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC
Sally eats a burger,
7 days in a week.
Sally gets picked on,
7 days in a week.
Joe is nerdy and geeky,
for 7 days a week
Joe gets picked on,
7 days a week.
Alex is homosexual
7 days a week,
Alex is picked on,
7 days a week.
The poor souls that are four,
piled on by opinions and judgments,
suffering each day more and more.
They go through life,
without the color of peace,
and without some to put them at ease,
when the times get really hard.
The silent personalities,
that are so great
are being submerged
under the waters of judgment
and waters of close mindedness
to the point where
the slow flame inside them
is gone forever more.
So who are you to say
what is right and what is wrong?
just be quiet
and let them sing their own song
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
When I was young high school kid
I wasn’t doing very well with girls
I didn’t know what to say to them
But I really wanted to give it a whirl.
So, when Mama saw me struggling
She saw me blowing my chance
She told me, “They’ll come around,
All you have to do is learn to dance.”
So, she showed me some rather easy
Stylish steps from her jitterbug days
I took them and danced to the music
That the deejays chose to play.
Mama taught me jitterbug
And that helped quite a bit
She won awards as a teen
I heard she was quite a hit.
I rocked and I rolled and bounced
My shoes got to moving with the beat.
Then I was snapping my fingers and
My body went along with my feet.
I twirled the girls I danced with and
Held them snuggly up close and tight.
And the girls started asking me to dance
Right away from that very first night.
Mama taught me jitterbug
And I very glad she did
It turned a geeky wallflower
Into a much more popular kid.
I learned the Stroll and Hully Gully
The UT and the Electric Slide
With a changing bevy of beauties
Dancing along right by my side.
This was before Twist showed up
Which everybody could learn to do
But even then I found that I could
Teach them another trick or two.
Mama taught me jitterbug
And that helped quite a bit
She won awards as a teen
I heard she was quite a hit.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
In the state of the Lone Star,
the sun begins to pound on my pale skin
As summer begins
I'm out of school
I'm out of a social life
I'm flooded in books
Required and wanted alike
Sweltering heat makes the air thick
Like sweet Southern molasses
The mosquitoes are out full force
And the ants are too
Old ladies and men on porch swings
Speaking quietly to themselves
The young and active squabble in yards and pools
Whilst under parent's watchful eye
The young and geeky sit in front of screens
Fingers and thumbs moving away
Freedom
The boiling *** of summer freedom
Drips on the stove of the people
Calming them into summer's lazy drift...
Those are the realities of a Southern Summer.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
He chose you. I hope you know how lucky you are. I tried so hard to be it for him -- hell, I wanted it to be him so badly -- but I just never was.
Don't worry, even though you have no reason to. I know my place, and so do you.
He loves intensely. Fully. As compelling as the moment you first saw him and it felt as if the stars finally aligned in your favor. As strong as the gush of wind whenever it storms. As overwhelming as holding his heart in your hands. As powerful as the waves that meet the shores. As hard as I stupidly fell for him. Am falling. But trying to let go of.
So when you doubt that love... Just don't.
Don't be bothered when he replies a few hours too late, just be glad that he makes time for you. Don't act affected when he puts his other responsibilities before you, it's just that he's always been an overachiever. He's so used to juggling everything on one hand that he forgets he has yours to hold through it all. Swallow your pride, and accept that he will always be occupied. Don't compare yourself to his past lovers, or the other girls, including I, who are so gone for him. You aren't competing with shadows anymore.
I wish I could call him mine, but he's all yours to adore. *It's you, and it will always ******* be you.*
And I hope you know he loves playing chess. Half the time he devotes to studying is actually spent playing that geeky game. Tease him about it because you love seeing him smile. He drinks ridiculously copious amounts of alcohol but he'll never admit to it. He eats food off the floor. He denies his crazy ways since he just wants to bicker with you about something. He says the quirkiest statements but appreciates it when you let out your peculiar side with him. He'll never let you open your door on your own. He'll wait for you. Always. He claims he's shy, but God knows he could charm anyone's pants off.
Do me a favor: don't be afraid of loving him, and the love he could give.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
Unlock that door
Bring your heavy feet in
Call out my name
"Baby, I'm home."
You will find me in our bedroom
Geeky glasses, fingers busy with a game
I will look up at you, softly
As you let out a yawn
"Long day?"
Shutting off my device
Arms open wide
You fall into my arms
With clothes crinkled from your day's work
But your scent still so attractive
"Yeah... It was bad and I'm exhausted..."
Cuddle you close
Kisses on your forehead
You pull me in closer, gripping tighter
"Goodnight, my love."
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
“Feminism shouldn’t exist” the guy next to me in class tells me with conviction in his eyes. “Females have more rights than men, their period just makes them whiney as ****
Well, you might not be a guy who walks around grabbing girls’ ***** believing that the clearly uncomfortable smile she send you, after you had starred non-stop at her for 5 minutes straight was consent.
Or a guy who comes up to a girl at prom not being able to understand that she doesn’t have a date because “all the guys I know would **** to pieces”
But just because you don’t do this (and THANK YOU for that), don’t ******* tell me these men don’t exsist, when each of every example in this poem is a different guy in my life..
You’re not the one who couldn’t walk down the school hals without 10 guys catcalling and starring at your *** all while you stare the floor.
I guess it’s my fault for wearing leggings or running pants, thinking it was a smart idea because I planned on going running later. Or at least that’s what I’m told at the guidance.
Unfortunately them not being ‘real pants’ doesn’t make your hands on them less real.
You’re not the one therefore starting to wear as baggy close as possible, because apparently that’s the way of escaping male gaze and more importantly hands, just to be met by comments going: “did you get up last minute this morning,” or “why did you give up trying? You used to dress so cute”
Trying on WHAT?
Yes, I am giving up, because I don’t know how to make you look into my eyes without giving me the elevator glance first.
But, I shouldn’t be complaining. Pretty girls don’t have anything to complain about – right?
They’re pretty, they’re going to do fine in life as long as the know how to take off their clothes.
Being pretty is the reason guys pay you attention, and you should be glad, cuz ugly get none.
So I’m taught to sit back and accept harassment, because the only other option is not getting is, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?
All while girls compete trying to become as pretty as me and all the other pretty girls.
Because it doesn’t matter how funny or smart you are as girl, if you aren’t pretty, it doesn’t really matter.
BUT, if you are, being smart is hot – not geeky, and any other slightly not good characteristic will be overlooked.
And taking off your clothes is a great tool to get your way.
Just accept life is easier you for, man.
But you misunderstood something.
Girl don’t try to be pretty to have that kind of ‘privilige’ or to get an easier life.
They try to be pretty, because it the only way you survive.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:13 AM UTC
I AM THE PARTY OF A NATION
you see, i am superman, today my friend
i am the party of a nation, oh yeah
i partied in and into every town, yeah dude
i eat up all my party oriental food
for music, the beach boys are good
and so are judas priest and iron maiden are radical dudes
and kiss wants to rock and roll all night, and party every day
and the king and all his subjects, sits down for a feast
i watch all the cool stuff on the computer, youtube internet, dude
and i eat some wild exotic food
i aqm the loudest dude, ya can’t quieten me down
cause i am not like geeky mark on home improvement
i am like the eldest two
ya know the boys who are very naughty
i am picking up good vibrations, ya buckaluck
i am sitting on gold mine, ya buck a luck
cause, if ya know what is good for ya, button up
ya see i like to party with dogs are talking by the angels
and i hate being told i am a little woosey, or an old dogie or a freak
woosesys old dogies and freaks don’t party, as much as me
ya see dudes, ya can’t understand that i am the king of party town
ya see i am a cool party rockin’ dude
i was a cool kid in school
if cool kids throw beer bottles on school roves or crawl between prickle bushes
i nailed the party test, cause i don’t believe in being a square freaky woosey
cause partying is my middle name, and reading poems at the phoenix is my game
RESPECT ME, cause if you don’t, you’ll be shamed from the young dudes
i am not a fighting man, i am a PARTY man, anywhere, phoenix or youtube
i am the party of a nation dude, i am the coolest dude around
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
The coffee was too sweet as I mentally sketched a blueprint for each sentence I hope to speak. My tongue eagerly bounced between the most eloquent wordings to express thoughts that even you probably know are too complex for me.
I firmly grasped my the frigid mason jar, afraid that the same twilight that illuminated all the right parts of your face and highlighted your rogues strands of hair like golden thread would be enough to knock me from my seat. If I explained that, would it be romantic?
I pondered whether geeky comedy could be my niche. Decided against it. My hands grew colder from icy condensation and hesitation.
Every calculated consonant passing through your lips becomes fuzzier as i balance my focus so you don't notice how distracting you are. I struggle to pretend this is effortless for me, too.
I wished with each passing moment that I weren't one moment closer to death, one less moment sipping sugary coffee in your company.
I wished each passing moment elapsed quicker. my coffee is dwindling, the lump in my throat is a landform in of itself.
Though I'd rather babble about the universe and love, history and life, your small talk captivated me. Vowel after vowel. Of ambient noise, you could compose symphonies, your stare a screenplay, of simple Walmart trips, novels.
Of me, I'm but the fly on the wall in a fleeting moment of daylight in a rocky chair in a café in a day of your life upon which I couldn't even confess that I think about you more than the universe and history and life and coffee. Until you know that, I'll see you next time and we'll order the coffee black.
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
*You gave me conversations
I otherwise would never have
You let me talk about the things
I've always wanted to talk about
but just couldn't find the right listeners
You've let me be my geeky self
and you listen to all my weird stories
about art, travels, music and literature
the same way I listen intently to yours
In a way, you allowed me to grow
you allowed me to see the world
through your own light brown eyes
and your own wonderfully delicate words
and I'm thankful for the weekends
we've spent roaming around the city
trying not to get too lost while still having fun
In your impending departure, I wish you well
no matter where you are in the world
I hope you'll remember your friend
your skinny little friend who loves sugars
and museum walks and philosophical talks
I hope I've touched your life
the way you've touched mine
It's an imprint I will always cherish
Auf wiedersehen, mein freund.
Til we meet again.*
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC