“I'm a hunter with a pen
Nd' am tracking down words
Some stay high as birds
Se keep low as worms
But am armed with my pen
Nd'I'll track them to their den
Some words are snakes
I hear them hiss
Some words are lions
I hear them roar
Some words are scorpions
Without a sting
But I'm hiding with my pen
Nd' I'll catch them in a walk
My God I've run out of ink"
‘anonymous'
YOU ARE READING
Flushed Junked Soul
PoesíaIts a bunch of random stuff that could catch your attention one way or another be sure to read as they progress
