Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
After a little wee,
I will put the record straight
by removing your name
from the hit list.

No more, the river
bleeds, chasing the mannerism,
of falling stones on
the glass houses.

A massive selfie campaign,
overtakes the school bus,
full of wayward, tipsy
wandering kids.

The negativity
targets the blooms. Roses are
roses, they will not stop
sending their compliments.
Written by
Satsih Verma
159
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems