Get Your Premium Membership

Last Roll Remaining White Gold

It appears to be the end of TP Only one roll remaining White gold it has been called Even old newspaper cannot be found A half moon arising on a small cabin door With the thrown awaiting and butts quivering People lining up with only one thought Buy it now or run out only one remaining Minds racing while running down an aisle Filling carts with white gold for an outhouse With trembling thought’s of running out Covid-19 is running wild they shout Using their mask as a last resort Contest: The Last 1 Sponsored By: Anthony Biaanco Date Created: 11/28/2020

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs