There’s a moldy granola bar in my locker

And that sweatshirt that I forgot about

The granola bar was in the sweatshirt

Gross

The mice started a colony

With the moldy granola bar

It’s the crumbly kind

And they’re good at sharing

One is white one is gray, and one is faintly speckled,

There are babies in the pocket 

Of the sweatshirt I forgot

I wonder if they’re lovers 

Do they all love each other?

The note my girlfriend wrote me is still in the corner

Folded out like they read it

Like it’s shakespeare or great literature

They’ll teach their babies about it one day

Analyze the “can we go to 7/11 after school,

I miss you,

Meet me in the bathroom during third period.”

There’s nothing behind it

But they’ll make it up anyways

For a little mice english class

Why do they need to know english?