“Well...”
A dry voice echos
Of course I wear tennis shoes
On the day they’ll grow wet enough
To go squeak
Squeak squeaking around
The shiny white floors
While my dark hair quickly
Becomes flecked with
White speckles
I feel rather
Like a scarecrow
Doing my best to resist
Nature’s whims
Fighting a losing battle
An inescapable fate
Of being blown away
And buried
In the snow
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
“Well...”
A dry voice echos
Of course I wear tennis shoes
On the day they’ll grow wet enough
To go squeak
Squeak squeaking around
The shiny white floors
While my dark hair quickly
Becomes flecked with
White speckles
I feel rather
Like a scarecrow
Doing my best to resist
Nature’s whims
Fighting a losing battle
An inescapable fate
Of being blown away
And buried
In the snow
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