Somewhere, someone is writing a poem
There, here,
House, dear.
Cars, toys, planes,
Boy, girl, maines.
They feel, they write,
Word, sound, no fright.
Man, dream,
Woman, no theme.
Streets of Jersey,
Suburbs of my city.
All I know, somewhere,
Someone is writing a poem,
Because of that, I'll go show 'em
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment