I've a couple assignments around the corner so it's mostly going to be older poems for a while. I hope you don't mind.
You're tougher than the sounds,
Spat by bullies,
Trying hard to bring you down,
And here's why;
Can you clap your hands?
If there's a yes to stress,
Don't feel so blessed,
For what you've gone and done,
Is stolen Loki's crown;
Our new minister of mischief is coming to town,
And that's none other than you.
Every clap you cause,
An ant's tickled and leaves are whisked,
From the tallest of trees;
You strip the clothed,
And torture the timid,
I'd suspect you a menace,
If you weren't so clueless.
Oh then,
Why do words wound,
And hearts break,
When everything's said and done,
Aren't you still,
Usurper of an Asgardian prince?
And no word strips that title.
YOU ARE READING
Waiting for the Rain to Fall
PoetryPoems that twine thread around the broken bits of a soul, that fling umbrella lips into beaming buckets and kind of just make you want to say, "life is beautiful, isn't it?" - a totally unbiased review from me, the author.
