POEM: Hail
You are going to hail.
I can tell.
As soon as you fell.
Into your rude.
But, true.
Self, you think your cute.
Just like a melody from a gold flute.
You are mapping your own future.
And, that is for sure.
I wish people understand.
Their behavior.
That needs a savior.
But, they are going to hail.
Instead of jail.
FIN
Published by Pure Writing
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1 Comments
Post a CommentNice job!!