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Generation GapI was born with an 8-track in my throat but I’m a child of the 90’sI’d like to tell you how like totallylike tubular way to the maxLike bro like whoaYou areBut this is 2005And believe it or not, I’m shySo when my mom and I picked you up at the bus stop,I didn’t have the courage to tell you some thingsBut I think I’m ready,So bear with me:I’ve seen everything you own.Those imported T-shirts you wear I know you’re living out of a suitcase.Come to my houseBorrow something of my brother’sHe thinks he’s as old as you areIt scares me how old you areWhen you were two,I didn’t existWhen I was one, you were threeAnd I know you can add andI can subtract you from me and get nothing or Maybe negative two?Either way it’s a negative result becauseI can’t replace you,Can’t laugh,Can’t write poetry,And the cute boys from Spoken Word Club at the next tableSee me stealing every third glance at you.What do I do when you’re not there?Scribble blank verse under my water bottle toReplace the sips you ask for in German or Walk aimlessly to class? Because you can tell how much I like a personBy how late I’ll be for them.I’ve set my watch back to make time for you.