Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Its eighteen months since her delivery Now she is penning odes ostensibly Crayons in both hands: she is standing tall What Dada says? "No writing on the wall." With great care baby writes her graffiti Not much untouched by her audacity He tries to compromise with a new book but baby says, "Daa Daa"; with a stern look He has to admit the walls are hers now Filled with scribbles and a chromatic cow Its her version of Van Gogh's Starry Night without the stars; a novice oversight She's more surreal than Salvador Dali The writing's on my wall: Pure Graffiti
0
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:38 PM UTC
Graffiti: Writing On My Wall
Its eighteen months since her delivery Now she is penning odes ostensibly Crayons in both hands: she is standing tall What Dada says? "No writing on the wall." With great care baby writes her graffiti Not much untouched by her audacity He tries to compromise with a new book but baby says, "Daa Daa"; with a stern look He has to admit the walls are hers now Filled with scribbles and a chromatic cow Its her version of Van Gogh's Starry Night without the stars; a novice oversight She's more surreal than Salvador Dali The writing's on my wall: Pure Graffiti
u16102
Written by
42/M/A Sandy Beach
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:38 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem