Billy Boy
The harmonica plays in the distance,
It’s hard to believe.
The misleading melodies of unsung tomorrow,
Escaping through metal.
In a whirling world of everything but the truth,
How can we tell?
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.