Water Poem by Sasho Ognenovski
Water
How she is before she get in a rage?
Quiet, with five letters,
Livid, cold, warm,
Fast water,
Bind in a head.
Now it is bitter,
Expired,
One day it will expire all.
What we should do then?
Would the twilight,
Which we are looking at every day,
Ply us to drink?
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: watering
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5/4/2024 5:49:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
