Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
He's just seven hundred kilometers away
But it feels like he's on the other side
Of this cynical, condescending ball of gas we call home
That glares down on everyone's pride

A hop, skip, and a fifty-minute plane ride away
Makes up this protective barrier between you and me
But no, this ball of gas won't let it go my way
It's a killer after all, made up of land and sea
Let's face it. The Earth is a *******.
My High School Poetry
Written by
My High School Poetry  Spain
(Spain)   
525
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems