In twilight,
Walking along
On the boulevard,
Stood a spooky statue.
He
Brooded.
And he stared
Piercing and cold
Hatred of mankind.
"Wrong side of the bed, eh?"
"No,"
He said.
"I'm plain bored.
You would be too,
Bored to tears that is,
If you were a statue."
3 comments:
i like your odd sense of seeing things written in a sort-of-poetic way. I'm becoming a fan!
Thanks Lucy!
I like your poet,you just like a Philosopher and poet
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