Monday, August 8, 2011

A Poem About A Party Foul

Hopes, dreams, wishes, falling to the floor.
Crashing, spilling, staining the carpet
Like a fruity girly shot dropped by slippery hands.

As I look down over my Miller Lite
As the liquid splashes from within the plastic cup.
I think to myself:
"Should've made Jello shots."

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