Killing like the crow
He sees it far
The light of below
It was on the mar
The cat finds it's scat
So it was here before
However it has yet to spat
When it let out it's roar
As the rose wilts
The rain continues to dance
When the the river's silts
Come to a trance
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The Poetry of a Little One
PoetryAll of my poems over the years in one place. Started in 2011.
