Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018
When all the babies cry
And the pelicans sing
What will they bring
To the table, oh my
Right before my eyes
They'll crown me king
Dancing around a swing
Do I get my prize?

I know the grass is green
And that blades are sharp
My history is clean,
Not a sin to be seen
But what's a work of art
Is blood on the screen
I know this doesn't make sense.
8M
Written by
8M  F/At the Edge of the Galaxy
(F/At the Edge of the Galaxy)   
  351
     --- and J Klein and Sons Pen Parish
Please log in to view and add comments on poems