The cold dark nights living out on the streets,
People walking past, not caring enough.
Those convicts whose lives that came on the fleets.
Whose lives were full of suffering were tough.
there is nothing really,
that i can say,
when your journey is almost over,
and a new adventure begins.
Fun in the sun.
Fun at the beach,
It all began when I couldn’t walk,
They left me outside on the sidewalk.
With no food or water,
I thought that I would only last a day or so.
In a dark world.
no lights to turn on.
in nineteen minutes,
you can mow the front lawn,
colour your hair,
watch a third of a hockey game.
There was an old man who had cats,
Those cats were fat and usually ate rats.
The cats chased the old man,
Right into the room fan.
I can see the sky,
As I lay in the meadow,
And wish I could fly.
Wandering the streets,
In complete darkness,
With the only sound,
This is a poem that i found when cleaning out a box that i hadn't opened in ages:
What is a friend?