I'm sorry.A Poem by hypochondrita.
I've seen the way she looks at me when she says
"Oh how tragic is it that the most brilliant minds Seem to be the ones with the higher amount of trouble inside" It's flattering, honestly That she'd think I carry such genius traits within, As long as I can make her believe that's the case, I win. How terrible would it be if she'd find That sometimes the only thing to come out of a messy brain Is one hell of a migraine.
© 2017 hypochondrita |
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