if, over this world, there's a ruler
who holds in his hand bestowal and seizure.
i turn in prayer, asking him
to decree for the hour of my demise,
when my life is near its end,
to say to my grandparents something
i've always wanted to tell them,
to take her by the hand,
and tell her how i've always felt.
to have mountain dew in a glass,
with a green bendy straw.
but, if thats not possible, i'd much rather be,
with my family, drinking my dad's tea.
YOU ARE READING
picnic table and other poems
Poetrypoems i wrote that i really like. i would love for you to read them, and tell me what you think. thanks!