Categories > Original > Poetry0 Reviews
The story of my friend and I apologizing to each other, in rhyme form.
I was just really mad at the past."
Brooke raised an eyebrow and looked confused.
Softly she said, "Am I going to be used?"
I shake my head, "No, you won't.
But if you talk of him, just, please... Don't."
Brooke smirked, "Not even one bit?"
I glared at her. "Not even one bit."
Brooke sighed. "FINE," she groaned,
"but I swear if I'm disowned..."
"What is there to worry abot, Brooke?
Isn't this a hell of a lot better than skulking in your nook?"
Brooke smiled and nodded at me,
"I should have heard your silent plea."
I punched her in the arm, "Just stop with the taunts.
It's worse than seeing you trying to be a flaunt."
"A flaunt?" Brooke says in her blonde way.
"You're not using 'cause you were born in May."
I angry smirk, "So what if you're old?
I'm not the one already growing mold."
Yeah... Not exactly the way it happened, but this is a hell of a lot better than what really happneded. I mean, she admitted she was an a ss, and so was 'he', but nothing about being a flaunt or anything. Yes, 'flaunt' as a noun is a real word (Google it, you snarky ass), and yes, I was born in May, making me a few months younger than Brooke.