Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The speech of the humble radiates sound waves so mellow It's a mumble The voice box barely vibrates, Turn it down a notch till its a whisper Whisperer for the righteous, Thinkers descending from higher dimensions, Unseen to the untrained vision. The average cant envision the depth of their imagination, Plotting schemes to bond boundaries between nations; Make elbow room for the revolution. A crew of black sheep who dont count sheep to fall asleep, Wide awake even when they snore Z's When two eyes are closed, The third functions to the highest degree.
0
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
The Revolution Pt. 2
The speech of the humble radiates sound waves so mellow It's a mumble The voice box barely vibrates, Turn it down a notch till its a whisper Whisperer for the righteous, Thinkers descending from higher dimensions, Unseen to the untrained vision. The average cant envision the depth of their imagination, Plotting schemes to bond boundaries between nations; Make elbow room for the revolution. A crew of black sheep who dont count sheep to fall asleep, Wide awake even when they snore Z's When two eyes are closed, The third functions to the highest degree.
Written by
Canadian
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem