The Wrong Height Poem by Tanner Herndon
The Wrong Height
The moon assures light,
The sun is too bright,
We're monsters, we fight,
When we see bait, we bite,
I have no cigarettes, what a plight,
The blind are better painters than us all,
With imagination as their canvas,
If only we could see the paintings, what a sight,
We're all gambling with fate, becoming quite trite,
A bird hung itself on a kite,
We're all soaring at the wrong height.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/18/2024 9:24:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
