"squishers" poems
Black, blue and all the colors together,
Miles and meters could not take a measure,
The mystery so deep below,
No digging could make people know,
The crawlers, swimmers and the squishers of dye,
Under the blankets of waves they lie,
Loneliness never did they know,
Plastic adorned the green one low,
The oils and straws a part of their diet ,
It is becoming rather quiet,
Swimmers now floating,
Oh no !Are they evolving or Perishing.
Jan 27, 2020
Jan 27, 2020 at 3:01 AM UTC