HOCO

Oh no.

That time of year.

The dresses,

and hot messes,

its space-themed

this year. 

The team will lose,

they always do.

The DJ might be

82.

Why do I go?

I know how it'll go.

Lonely

and cold.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741