The spider weaves silk for its web;
birds gather twigs to make their bed.
We just go down to the furniture store
and pick whatever we choose.
Dogs and Cats curl up on a matt
making sure they hog the fire
while it seems we sit a mile away
and in the cold, shiver.
22 October 2009
David Harris's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Bed by David Harris )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Heebie-jeebie, lee fones
- Street Urchin, Babatunde Aremu
- Shake Loose my Skin, Angela Khristin Brown
- Street Culture, Angela Khristin Brown
- 1969, Angela Khristin Brown
- Reap & Sow, Angela Khristin Brown
- Save The Girl Child Of India, Bijay Kant Dubey
- Martin Luther King Jr., Angela Khristin Brown
- Marvin Gaye, Angela Khristin Brown
- 42, Angela Khristin Brown