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The lampshade,
it was pink and expensive.
But she liked it.
And the more I convinced her
to not buy it,
the more determined she seemed
to make it hers…
So I bought it.
She placed it in our living room.
I told her not to.
I told her it looked odd.
It clashed with everything.
But the more I tried to convince her
to not place it there,
the more certain she became
on showcasing it…
So there it stayed.
I don’t like that lampshade.
But I like her.
So the lampshade stays.
Background on this poem: I recently found my Poetry Scrapbook from 8th grade and found this poem. It’s one of my favorite poems from that time.
