Guess what it is?
Who drops the tiny thing in the soils of his yard
And watches as it grows to a black Oak grande
And from its tall branches, it drops a white card
The man cuts it down, for fear of its growth
Ironic so, yes, but the man can't be swayed
And sells all the lumber to a man on the fourth
But when this man burns it, it bellows smoke gray
The smoke quickly stretches with massive expansion
Leaks out the doors and heads into the skies
Drowning in smoke, the house turns into a mansion
But the owner of estate, in the room he was, dies
Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 443 times
Written on 2006-12-26 at 21:33
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Guess What It Is? Seven
Such a small seed in the pocket of a manWho drops the tiny thing in the soils of his yard
And watches as it grows to a black Oak grande
And from its tall branches, it drops a white card
The man cuts it down, for fear of its growth
Ironic so, yes, but the man can't be swayed
And sells all the lumber to a man on the fourth
But when this man burns it, it bellows smoke gray
The smoke quickly stretches with massive expansion
Leaks out the doors and heads into the skies
Drowning in smoke, the house turns into a mansion
But the owner of estate, in the room he was, dies
Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 443 times
Written on 2006-12-26 at 21:33
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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