A/N: Dean is about 15 in this

Love Poetry

Dean took a sip from his soda and glanced at his watch. 6:08 PM. Why, oh why did he ever agree to this? Oh yeah, because the girl was hot. He thought her name was Tiffany, or Trisha, or something. Dean decided that at one point, it didn't matter how hot the girl was, he didn't want to hear about her fucking poodle or hamster or whatever the hell she was blabbing about.

"I decided that I could take Layla and Hunny over to play with the neighbor's dogs, you know?"

No, he didn't know, but he didn't really think that mattered to her.

"Anyway, I get there and poor Hunny and Layla are too terrified of the other dogs to do anything but roll over. I got bored pretty quickly..."

Tell me about it, Dean thought.

"...and so I left Sherry to watch them and went to talk to her totally hot brother, Shane. He writes poetry. I think that's sooo romantic, don't you?"

NO!

"You should try writing me a love poem! That would be so cool!"

Dean had had enough.

"Fine, you want a love poem, here's one:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Fuck you!"

He slammed a couple bucks on the table to cover the meal and stalked out.

A/N: I totally made that poem up myself. Creative, right? XD