yes, almost all of my poems are dreary but they are well made if i do sayso my self. it would really please me if you commented and liked my peoms that i slaved away at. i always insist that my works are perfect. enjoy!
- Created By momo and kiro
time
Time is odd,
And it’s out of control,
It goes to fast,
Or it goes to slow.
It can’t make up its mind,
To stop or go,
To be kind to the old,
It doesn’t know.
Should it go fast for the young?
Slow for the old?
Or should it go just like normal,
As it was told?
Should it just stop,
No clocks ticking,
It’s so indecisive,
Emotions conflicting.
It goes slow when you’re waiting,
And fast when you’re having fun,
But time only stops,
When you’re dead and done.
The young -poem
The young do things,
They do not mean,
And some of them,
Are not seen.
But some of them,
Are very known,
And everyone's reactions,
Are clearly shown.
Love, Hatred,
Disgust,
Some of them,
Even show Trust.
For the young,
Do all kinds of things,
And when people show trust,
They feel like they have wings.
The young can do,
Bad and good,
But they always do,
What they should.
End
