I don't know if I could show myself again
In front of your father, he said
I failed my final exam !
The girl that listened to him was well dressed
And beautiful.
An educated beauty with the killer instinct of the Youth.
He stared the little dimple fixed on her face
Like the reflection of the moon under her lips.
He seemed very annoyed
Thinking about their walk around the lake last summer
Where nothing really happened.
It was his last chance to become what he was programmed for :
A perfect jerk.
Depuis le début de l'année 2011 projet de petits poèmes au jour le jour, à peu près réussis ou bancals, sur le vif et cuits maison, comme des cookies ou des muffins sortis du four.
