There's a tree on the outskirts of town.
People hang from the tree.
It's called the hanging tree;
Lots of people hang from it.
They hang up, they hang down,
They hang in, they hang out.
Some hang by their hands,
Some hang by their feet,
Others hang around their middle,
But that just seems uncomfortable.
Everyone in the town hangs from the tree,
Everyone except for me.
I never got why they hanged, until now.
I never felt the need to hang, until now.
So here I hang, in the hanging tree,
With our friends and others,
Sisters and brothers,
Fathers and mothers.
How else do we pass the time?
YOU ARE READING
Poem Collection
PoetryPoems that I have written. Some are good, some are bad, but I'm going to post them anyways. Feel free to leave a comment, and I will try to respond as soon as I can. :) The title image is of a triple dark chocolate cheesecake I made with my grandmot...
