Seward, by Invisible Poet
|
This town can be a haven, or a hell
it can be an eternity of time
a traditonal place, still ringing the noon bell
Cars running down the streets covering them with grime
Tourists by the boat-load
clogging our cities streets
but it is these peoples green gold
that cause us, with smiles to greet
we are a money hungry town
our youths set free to roam
none of us wish to be awarded crown
we just want you to leave our home |
| Posted: 2010-04-23 18:19:02 UTC |
| Current vote: 5. | To vote, you must be logged in.
|
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
| 2010-05-11 18:48:19 | Billy Joe |
| its a good poem john B. aight write back on gmail or yahoo aight john your bro Billy Joe Aaron Wardlow
|
| 2010-06-15 08:28:04 | suzieQ |
| omg i love it. nicely rhymed but then again i can always rely on you for that cant i ;) |