When I was but a wee lad
I remember going up into
grandma's attic for a look
it was so unique and scary
The floor creaked
the window was missing
birds nested in the rafters
and it smelled bad
why did I go up there
there were voices
I know there were voices
that we calling to me
OH Glenny come see us
trembling I ascended
up the stairs
to what...
"Adventure"
G.B.S
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem