Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Wander, wander, wander The terrain is rough here The roads are steep The people mean well The air sings, exhaling carbon dioxide The streets are high Whistleblowers, lawnmowers, money sowers It's nice when it rains though
0
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
big city
Wander, wander, wander The terrain is rough here The roads are steep The people mean well The air sings, exhaling carbon dioxide The streets are high Whistleblowers, lawnmowers, money sowers It's nice when it rains though
kelley-a-vinal
Written by
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem