Oh. My. God.
Boys, please, for the sake of your own pride:
Never, ever, ever write a girl a poem.
Especially if the girl is even remotely like me. People like me laugh at your poems. Yes, I'm sure people have told you it's romantic, it's cute. It's not. It's fucking hilarious, but for some reason, I have a feeling, that's not what you were going for. I know that the movies and shit have told you that girls respond to that ridiculous shameless flattery. I don't know about the rest of the airheads in the world, but I laugh hysterically at it.
So when I reluctantly agreed to meet with a kid I met about a week ago for ice cream, I expected a little awkwardness because I knew he really liked me, but I never expected this. So he prefaces the awkwardness with "So instead of writing an essay, I wrote a little something for you" Already, my eyes just rolled, I could have helped it if I tried. So he goes on with a really, really, something poem. I don't even know the word for it. Witty rhymed with pretty and altogether, it was hilarious. Unfortunately I can't remember hardly any of it because all of my concentrated energies were focused on not bursting out laughing. And of course, the last line was something ending with "girlfriend?" I somehow managed to sputter out a moderately coherent rejection and magically did not laugh or break his little heart. So we talked a little longer. and wonder of wonders...my dad shows up. Just poof, just to visit. Awkward beyond awkward. So finally I manage to escape lover boy and the moment I get into my car and drive off, I burst out laughing. This entire night was the most hilarious situation I've found myself in I can remember.
So boys, remember. Romance is one thing, but love poems, leave it to Shakespeare.
Bad:
Shimmering gold strands of hair that weave perfectly back and forth between each other to the top where a mystery lies. Eyes that seem to be filled with a blue mist never giving a define color but still stunning anyone who dares take a look into them. Even the coldest of hearts and the intelligent people will melt and become eternally lost with a single glance. With lips as soft silk making any man that feels them skip a beat with their heart and now have a firm belief that there is no other possible thing better than that. We know god is not real for not even himself could compare to the beauty laid before me.
Good:
I like you. Let's hang out.