Calm is the clearing
Warm sun shining above
Soft grass beneath our feet
Water trickles along the rocks
In time to the blood flowing from his head
I say, "don't panic", but really that is all we can do
Reasoning would never work
Why would a lion give mercy to a mouse
When eating him is much simpler
So we run and run and run
To this clearing with warm sun and soft grass
Where we spend our days as the lions of our own savannah
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryThese are some of the poems I've written that are a result of me attempting to try my hand at poetry after falling in love with Dead Poets Society
