Whatever can be a beautiful term,
Not just a juvenile linguistic squirm.
The word exists in many forms.
Despite it earning my partner's scorn,
Sometimes the word helps me stand firm.

On occasions when rage in traffic worms
Its way inside, extinguish the burn.
Even if they honk the horn,
Whatever.

When my lover fears I'd spurn
Him for something shallow as a derm;
When he asks me so forlorn
What I'd do to help but a thorn
Of his dreams come true; I reaffirm:
Whatever.