Hay rides
Tree climbs,
The softness of a broken heart
Shattered
...
Well, what can I say? I was born to write Every night i would stay up and read books until midnight fall asleep and dream of what is and may become Then my eighth grade Reading teacher convinced me about slam poetry, She was a graduate student of Clark 'liberal liberal' University and loved to see young writers. So yeah, that's how I came to be.)
Stereotypically, This Is An Autum Day
Hay rides
Tree climbs,
The softness of a broken heart
Shattered
But we throw things
Carry heavy bags for
Grandma
For her time will come soon
We stare at each other
And laugh at the stupidity of children
Apple cider and vodka
Freshly squeezed
And pie from forty year-old
Oven trays
That never
Get old
Eating
And
Eating
And eating
Forever
Until the Gamecube stops
Working
For we
Are
Hipsters of tomorrow
And the Wii
Is for children of the 21st century
Hopefully,
There's more Turkey.