DayA Poem by ShannonFirst Poem...Writing and speaking, Still waiting to make a change to the words said all day.
Picking up a pie from the baker's, Asking why is it so busy this time of day.
Sitting on the fields, Wondering why they looked the same as the last day.
Climbing through trees without leaves, Pondering the meaning of the passed days.
Running home through traffic, Thinking I'll be late for the next day.
© 2008 ShannonReviews
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6 Reviews Added on December 10, 2008 Last Updated on December 11, 2008 Author
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