IT'S STRANGE
It's strangeI'm more alive when asleep
Then awake counting sheep
It's strange
How the people that I miss
Make my eyes fill with mist
It's strange
How I love my wife
When she's snoring by my side
It's strange
I saw my first u.f.o when my carol started to cook
An unidentified frying object, I had to take a second look.
It's strange
How twenty six letters
When used correctly could make this world much better
It's strange
How I can see
Varied world's In poetry
It's strange
That when we travel to the stars
If we find ourselves travelling home to mars
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2025-05-28 at 03:25
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 by Alan J Ripley Latest textsNo today'sONE OF THE HERD THE BARRIER A POET'S BRAIN IT'S STRANGE |
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