To glow,
The angry hurt - did know,
Don’t write - get to bed.
Twink ears, incensed.
She should - Mrs Bimi sat.
What? Oh, nothing.
Boomed - sound who plunged,
that filled around them.
Tell them, by branch,
setting beds, awake.
You’re angry - if she kept the Dance fair
Mrs-really-done-hair,
Office,
Get on.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of the Past, Dreams of the Future
General Fictionok what the heck. we're doing this. just a funky lil' collection of my short stories and poems
