For The Birds Poem by poem whore
For The Birds
I fly around without ever touching the ground
the sky is blue with poisin comin down
there is a secret up thair all around
aluminum helping to stop the count down
planes go round N round
as
exhaust is controlling the weather
the
rain dancing to the ground
combating mother nature
never works out
Friday, August 15, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: weather
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8/25/2026 2:25:50 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
