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Stupid Gnomes 4/22/2020
Every day at home.
This could be another really great poem.
Until I start seeing little green gnomes.
Beckoning me to go outside.
Instead I run and hide.
Under the covers inside my bed.
Hey stupid gnomes don't come back till I'm dead!
Or at least you could bring me supplies.
Toilet paper hand sanitizer food and drink.
Got plenty of time to think.
Without takeout I won't get fat.
But with nowhere to take a date out what's the point of that?
At this point I'll never get out.
Like 20 to life inside my own home.
This could have been a really great poem.
But those stupid fucking little green gnomes!

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