The Leaves Always Fall,
They Levitate To The Ground,
Covering The Yard.
They Flow With The Wind,
Setting The Mood For Autumn,
With Beautiful Colors.
Red Green Yellow Brown,
The Leaves Fall And Hide The Ground,
Leaving Nothing Left.
The Smell Of The Oak,
The Old Oak Tree That Has Fallen,
Is Alive Once Again.
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13 years old and have an exquisite passion for poetry, my inspiration is Edgar Allan Poe with his creepy tails
Dark gooey, runny and oozy. Cold and musty, Drippy and ucky. Black as tar and and sticky like gum. It's tempting as the devil, and addicting like rum..
Eyes closed and so still Enclosed in a wooden box Six feet underneath.
Sat in my watery pool, Thinking about you, I do not know what to do..
I have a hummingbird thought, Playing on my mind: You are all so beautiful..
Chopsticks and miso, Fresh sashimi off the belt; Monday sushi night.
It seems to me that The haiku is the only Poem I write well....
What am I to you. The red headed foreigner. Strange accent, pale skin. What am I to you. Speaking practice every week. Verbs, nouns, "Hey Teacher!" What am I to you.
Your Black Hair Taunts Me, Your Deep Brown Eyes Pull Me In, Your Name Drives Me Crazy,.
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