I started writing a poem, but then just got writers block, and instead of pushing creation, I just made with what I had. So this is basically the shortest poem you will ever read, however enjoy.
A warm mid-summer night
Adolescents swarmed inside
Voices whisper over dings and snaps
They are consumed by the picture of this night
Unaware of it’s glorious form
That’s right outside their window
-Blogger101 “What do you think this means?”