Sushi served in styrofoam,

Red wine filled solo cups;

I felt too old, acting this young

Laughing in a room where nothing got done.

Bachelor pad in the making;

The wall art was scarce.

You spoke of past guests

Like they were timeshares.

Travel-sized soap on the vanity,

No food or drinks in the fridge.

Based on the texts you’ve sent,

Growing up will never be your thing.

The story you’ve created:

a beautiful, fictitious blend.

Only a reader like you

Can find a hero in the end.

Add comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.