Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The land is dry and infertile. The rivers and stream share the same fate. This will mean the death of our people Unless we can find some escape. So we pack our belongings And take one last look at our homes. Leave what food we can for the elderly And set out for the unknown.
0
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
The Tribe V
The land is dry and infertile. The rivers and stream share the same fate. This will mean the death of our people Unless we can find some escape. So we pack our belongings And take one last look at our homes. Leave what food we can for the elderly And set out for the unknown.
jeff-barnes
Written by
Antiguans
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem