Cold wet rain,1
Falling upon my skin2
My hair is wet,3
Jeans soaking and cold4
I feel depressed just like the weather.5
When I come home,6
Wait!7
What have we hear?8
There on the old oak table stands,9
A sweet warm fruit pie.10
Beneath the table my little dog lies,11
She's torturing the cat again, 12
Just like old times.13
When I sit down,14
Cut my share of pie,15
They both look up16
Drool hanging from their mouths,17
They wish they could have some of my sweet pie,18
My oh sweet pie.19
But of course their wishes come unanswered,20
Unless they get upon that old oak table.
Author notes
A poem I made up for my English class. Tell me what you think.
Comments
-
Very interesting piece with a nice ending. I like how this plays out like a story. I bet your english teacher liked this. If she didn't, then... Well, let's just say I like this piece a lot. Well done on the pie and descriptions.
-
haha, cute poem. My dog's so bad with that, she'll watch me eat something and by the time I'm done there's a big puddle of drool on the floor under her haha. I like this.
Adding your comment:
