Brown waves cover my shoulder
He warms me like hot pot holders
He holds the trees up with might
Brown is just not very bright
He sticks his leg out and makes me trip
I fall down and get mud on my hip
Brown hops in my mouth just like a rabbit
My mom says that he is quiet a bad habit
So now it's time I bid him ado
Dear Mr. Brown, I'll have no more of you
YOU ARE READING
If Life Was Like a Poem
PoetryA collection of various poetry works written from 2012--present
