Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Danny

Happy birthday to you
Danny you are now twenty two
I miss you and I bet your boobies miss me too
I'm writing you this thing because I've got to tell you boo
Who else knew boo also rhymed with too?
I want to take the time to confess my feelings for you
Don't worry, I'll make sure to be as creepy as you ;)
You my sweet friend have an ass that makes me blue
I'm sad that I can never fill a dress the way you always do
And to tell you a secret that I always hid from you
Your boobs are the number one reason why I'm friends with you
Your boobs make me believe that dreams can and do come true
Your boobs are the center of everything that is good in you
*your boobs your boobs your boobs boobs boobs*
I'm writing you this "bad poetry" because I want to make it clear
I wish you were here so I can tell you face to face my dear
Well it doesn't matter because this thing I'll tell you is still sincere
Now how can I end with a rhyme here? Um, what about Kashmir?
You are a true friend that I'm lucky to have met when I was a kid
I'm lucky to have you there to share those desires of wanting to run away (eighth grade)
I'm lucky to have you there to hate on most people in school together (senior year)
I'm lucky to have you there to call and scare off creepy high dude (freshmen year in college)
I'm lucky to have you there to help me whenever
I feel like I couldn't do it anymore (second year in college)
I'm lucky to have you there every time I disappear
and come back; no one but you gets how much I need that
I'm lucky to have you in my life
I'm lucky to have found a sister in you

I love you.

1 comment:

  1. Fatma Fatma Fatma, after such a poem what can I say?
    This what you called "bad poetry" is better than getting laid..( Did I spell "laid" right?)
    But if you think it was "bad" then -here's to you- a perfect cliche.
    The color you splashed into my painting gave my life a vivid shade.
    You went through everything with me: childhood, puberty, zits.
    Isn't it sonorous? how our thoughts are a subtle fit..
    Now what should I write about your boobs? Boobs boobs boobs...Oh Fatima your boobs are so perky..
    I couldn't find a word that rhymes with the previous verse other than turkey ( I know, kill me now)
    I love everything about you, your attitude, your poetry, your bitching, your sass..
    I can't imagine my life without your shagareeb-less ass.
    Now I could also start writing on how lucky I AM to have you;
    I'm lucky to have you there, through the silent moments of despair.
    I'm lucky to have you there, whenever I had bitching to share.
    I'm lucky to have you there, despite your disappearance and poker face I knew you cared.
    I'm lucky to have you in my life.
    I'm lucky to have you as a wife. (This line doesn't make any sort of sense but fuck it, it rhymes)

    I love you, even more than food and chocolates.
    May our times together never be ephemeral.

    Danny.

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