Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
If you want to sing out sink in and if you want to be free be tin cause there's a million waves of bees you know that there are you, no, thee that argh you oh, you know, you are there, where there are airs, where there are errors pushing out heirs. Were are the children they said were the future, and yet we are already over with, and the ones they follow, claiming to be all new, look and act like the ones who came and went before we were born. So what? Should we sweat it? Does it really make us to be called the best or the worst, last or first? She was a girlish woman, a woman, who was past the voting age.
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
A Wire Around Your Ankle (inc)
If you want to sing out sink in and if you want to be free be tin cause there's a million waves of bees you know that there are you, no, thee that argh you oh, you know, you are there, where there are airs, where there are errors pushing out heirs. Were are the children they said were the future, and yet we are already over with, and the ones they follow, claiming to be all new, look and act like the ones who came and went before we were born. So what? Should we sweat it? Does it really make us to be called the best or the worst, last or first? She was a girlish woman, a woman, who was past the voting age.
unfinished
andrew-marshall-alper
Written by
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem