To A Teen Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

To A Teen

Rating: 5.0


Tom's buddy ran a secret lab,
made funny little pills.
The gift he had was of the gab:
'My uppers cure all ills.'

He drove his shiny Yellow Cab
through Walla Walla's hills,
meticulously keeping tab
on all the moonshine stills.

One day a patron took a stab
thus wiping all his bills,
they laid him on a concrete slab,
don't choose this life. It kills.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gina Onyemaechi 28 December 2006

Powerfully put, Herbs. The rhyme appears deceptively jolly at first, but ultimately it gives the piece its resounding force.

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Alison Cassidy 28 December 2006

A clever cautionary tale Herbert. Beneath its flippant mask, there is a strong and timely message here. 'When will they ever learn? ' love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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