A Broke Spoke
A Spoke broke.
Once Bespoke,
In the ruins I toke.
What a joke.
Wish I'd croak.
Could a fire stoke?
Can it go unspoke?
Too much smoke,
Im bound to choke.
I see my Shadow as a cloak.
It looks so baroque.
I peer to see no folk.
The fire grows with burning oak.
I might die of heatstroke.
What I heard was not misspoke,
The time has come to uncloak
Yea yea slow poke,
Take another toke.
Just rememeber, you cant de-coke,
Until you fix that effing Spoke!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
