Explore Poems GO!

Battle

Billy Johnson, now grown three-
With fat fingers clutch and claw-
Choc'ate drips leave a convenient trail
For Nana Johnson to follow home.

Big Wheels churn up the dust
While ankles rev up the noise.
I shuttle back like a crab
To escape certain death or dust.

His eyes focused forward,
Read More

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM