Light at the End of the Tunnel We march through this tunnel This dark, everlasting…
Poetry is…
Poetry is…
by: Anonymous
Poetry is a lost puppy roaming down
dark narrow streets
Poetry is riding in a car with the windows
down on a hot day, wind blowing through
my hair
Poetry is a lost 5 year old at Walmart trying
to find mom
Poetry is riding a roller coster at Six Flags for
the first time in forever