A reason to hate love.

2dae he picked out his finest clothes,
Polished his shoes, slick combed his hair
Swearing silently, 2dae wld be the day,
She,whoeva she is, wld kal him dear.
She sits on the exact opposite end of lyf
With eight people b/n them, tho he doesn’t notice
Much lyk the way she doesn’t notice him.
But its lyk his lost in a makeup world
Where she plays him and then smiles.
I think he dreams that on Tuesday nights
So with renewed hope he wakes Wednesday morning
It’s not lyk he hasn’t tried to say hello
It’s dat she didn’t really say it back.
So 2dae too, He has to let it go,
And plan how to make her his way smile
The annoying part is I have to help him
Even though I doubt she’s worthy of him
Tho she alwyz makes him feel foolish....
I grow weary of tears half muffled by pillows
And the constant fall of moods into gutters
When she comes walking by our shutters.
Call me lost, but I think love isn’t worth the trauma
Think abt it, in so many cases, Alone is better!!!