The monster roars.
Banging himself against the protective wall,
He shoves his shoulder into it harder,
Roaring mightier than ever,
He leaves a dent.
Pounding and pounding again.
Then, one brick tumbles onto the village below.
One mnore bang,
And the monster breaks through.
The plastic building-blocks collapse.
Burrying the small plastic city.
The young girl drops the stuffed monster.
And gives a delightful scream of terror.
"The people!" She yells.
And she digs through the rubble,
Pulling out her favourite figurine.
YOU ARE READING
Your Heart is My Harp
PoetryYour heart is my harp. With my poems, I'll try and show you how I pluck the strings. I'll try and pluck the strings of your heart, Creating happiness and joy and laughter with these poems. They're just silly little ones, but maybe, just maybe, they...
