Bell Hammers

I wish I could talk to you about Ted Lasso.

I am tall for a man who's had his heart broken;
I am short for a fellow who's hit his head on heaven. 

I feel better these days; definitely getting over you,
but that doesn't mean I don't care or don't miss. 

I wonder if you still let "Devils!" slip
in conversation and then catch yourself. 

This poem is a hammer slap to a bell,
and you will read it but nothing will happen. 

It's okay.