Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
In this farmhand garden I spray out words To be avocados. Tomatoes. Anything green Red or yellow. A gaming Meadow with me as its Lyrical rancher. I pick out the bad Roots to be made into weird clothing And picnic lanterns. Because you can't have a good picnic Without the freshness of the growers Garden..
0
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Freshness garden of lyrics
In this farmhand garden I spray out words To be avocados. Tomatoes. Anything green Red or yellow. A gaming Meadow with me as its Lyrical rancher. I pick out the bad Roots to be made into weird clothing And picnic lanterns. Because you can't have a good picnic Without the freshness of the growers Garden..
bill-murray
Written by
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem