J.C.

Embarrassed to talk to my parents about, I told you.
Train rides to New York and a trip abroad to Italy every day after school.
Close my eyes and cut the mushrooms and don’t forget a smashed finger too.
Fatty and Chiquita, great friends forever.
Remember the Sprinker? “Iiii neeeedddd a runnnnnneerrrrrrr!”
or how about crooked lip stripper? Haha, this poem is so informal.
 My buddy, I miss you.

I remember going on the cooks’ line when you weren’t looking and surprising you with this guy.

It was simple, but hilarious to us.

For me at work, you were such a plus.

Although, I only picture you through a letter now,

You’re the friend that’s better than ever.