Lemonade Stand

Foe.

This is the few extra pounds that lost you the date, every single Friday for the rest of your life.
This is the loss you felt dear, and you are me and I have never won.
Luckily I dodged the draft, and married my own sadness, and oh god, I wish it was you because sadness pervades life and interrupts you while you have amazing sex in the next room with his feelings of inadequacy.
A dead weight in your ear this time as a light dawns on the mind and all the pills you dumped in the toilet have been swallowed by manic depressive fish, your only friends now as you wallow and they become successful and productive members of marine society.

Let us feed the ocean.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed