And just for thought...
A dollar from my hand to his, I will never see it again.
An unlikely poem about a piece of linen that I was not attached to anyway.
Poem don't always have to be about tears and desperation.
Sometimes they should be about nothing at all.
If you want to hear something sad here, I was a dollar short for a pack of smokes later on.
That would be his fault.
Maybe I should ask for my dollar back.
Call his house a million times, blame it on my addiction.
I just charged the bastard sticks.
You will just owe for the rest of your life, buddy.
Sometimes poems don't have to make any sense at all.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who has been in love with writing her entire life. I am full of quirks, anxieties, fears, joys, laughter. And all I have wanted to do was give the world a smile.