Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I don't know about you, but I'm tired of spinning. Same ol stories been told for thousands of years, still, nobody's winning. Pockets of pigs continue to grow while ones they call peasants, sit in the snow. Kerosine's sparse, lights about to go out... as the wealthy eat steak, so warm, in their empty, 12 bedroom house.
0
Jan 1, 2025
Jan 1, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC
Tired
I don't know about you, but I'm tired of spinning. Same ol stories been told for thousands of years, still, nobody's winning. Pockets of pigs continue to grow while ones they call peasants, sit in the snow. Kerosine's sparse, lights about to go out... as the wealthy eat steak, so warm, in their empty, 12 bedroom house.
The people of NC are feezing
renae
Written by
F/American
Jan 1, 2025
Jan 1, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem