Author's Note:
This is a poem about how life gives you lemons and people decide to just leave them there. Sitting all alone in the street. Then finally someone picks them up and-and-and...throws them at someone.
Eating lunch
Food sitting on the table
Not even thinking of how grateful you should be
Someone trips
All of their juice just spilled out
They don't even care as much to clean it up
Walking slowly
Prancing around the tables
You don't know how much some people wish to be you
No one gets it
No one even cares of how lucky they are
Then finally one person speaks up, he stands on a table and what does he say
FOOD FIGHT!
No comments:
Post a Comment