The Sky Is Falling Poem by Louis Borgo

If the sky took time to form would be like a storm with out the forecast could one forecast the weather,
moons that look like ovals with no meaning of bright lights and no shoes to hold us steady,
like a pay grade trying to do a 360 with no head lips to catch the shadow to skime the city lights,
can one catch the assumption blue moon blue moon one has rising,
up all night or late for the sun to rise obeying once hungry trying to pass through the,
glimpse of rain puddles to hold on to lost change how things is getting cold for world to afford a good home,
does patient run thin,
can one catch the assumption blue moon blue moon one has rising,
can one put there self in the foot of single parent how few pennies could mean lunch or my child lunch,
Is one to young to put off the patient of having such thing or have reality sunk in like a bowling ball with no lane,
to clear the split how similarities of a storm and a game can some time twist a lane,
man of a man son of a son how some time just words can come through the darkest of days,
once more I say,
If the sky took time to form would be like a storm with out the forecast could one forecast the weather.