form of poetry; free verse
Sitting in grey
It's boring you see
There's nothing to take
Where there's no money
Then, I will make
A man in a seat
He will eat burnt steak
on a crowded beach
But I know it is all fake
There's nothing to see
No man
No steak
And no crowded beach
So
I will just flake
Like a leaf
on a dying willow tree.
