I don't usually write stuff like this. The swearing is foreign, as is the break in rhyming scheme, and the casual language. For fear that my meaning is lost( because this felt trully alien to write), I'll give a brief explaination.

It's not about me, or anyone I know.....just "that guy", Mister I was born to be BMOC (big man on campus).

Coffee Shop Hero

Some say pretentious

Others pompous, conceited or smug

My answer to them is simply

“I don’t give a fuck.”

I find I’m deserving,

Eloquent and  amusing;

mysterious to most

I hear the girls musing

Starbucks, their host; as well as mine

“Should we interrupt his coffee?”

“He’s writing.”

“Just who is this man?”

The bravest of females departs from her clan

She says “Excuse me….um, excuse me mister”

“What’s up?”, my reply.

“If I don’t get your number I most surely will die.”

Smirking, I gesture…just go.

Bring on the next whore that thinks she can;

impart on this handsome man a cute little show.

Oh god here comes another, this time it’s a man.

“Hey bro, can I bum a smoke?”

“Get a job and get away”

I stand for a trip to the can.

Walking, I glance

The cigarette –less smoker

Extends the middle finger of his hand

A gesture appealing, had I had the chance.

 A trip to the toilet brings more

Talks that wear.

An amateur poet, with pink striped hair

A goth girl with agony so deep

A barista that’s going to school

Just more ignorant losers

Ah, mens room finally at last

I dump all imperfection

And ponder, digress

“My shit smells like roses;

God, I’m the best.”