Light at the End of the Tunnel We march through this tunnel This dark, everlasting…
Poetry is…..
Poetry is…
By:Melina Arredondo
Not just sit there like a bunch of sitting ducks,
quacking until the end of time.
They should fly like owls, squeak and flicker like bats,
and scratch and slip like cats.
They should murmur and scream and dance like children at play.
Why just sit there and have one word per page like a sky with a single bird in it?
Poetry is when words go wild like a circus, a crowd when actions speak louder than words.