The sun climbs up the window sill,
And potters up the hills,
And clouds look like cotton frills,
And the night is ridden of frosty chills;
These are what you call cheap thrills.
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
these are what you call 'Cheap Thrills'
The sun climbs up the window sill,
And potters up the hills,
And clouds look like cotton frills,
And the night is ridden of frosty chills;
These are what you call cheap thrills.
