9 Sept 2007
Their faces are familiarThey’re my work mates, I think
They havent got dates,
They giggle and fall
On top of each other
They smile at me
And I blush
One of them brushes his hand
Against my butt
I want to tell him to fuck off
to Lalaland.
But it’s not his fault
His mind isn’t all there
He blows me a kiss
Partial bliss
And my stomach does a somersault
The next day at work
I try talking to him
I almost trip on my shoe
He blanks me out, completely
I accept defeat, but,
Forgotten yesterday, have you?
Drunken bastard moron
zaza at 11:46 am
3comments
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at September 09, 2007
Impressionist said... lol!
well i guess its not his fault! its because he is drunk! ;)
peace & love
Jeevy-
at September 11, 2007
annie said...
Wow piece of writing! Men i tell you..shiiii
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at September 11, 2007
zaza said...
it is fault. men do little things and dont realize the worth of what they do..
yeh, men 'I' tell you..tsk tsk