The Hike
High mountains fell with the crumples,
Back from The rumble
That dark cave:
before the lad had journeyed
To the hill, mountains high
From hanging on top of cliffs
To puffing and exhaling big smokes,
Spliff... spliff...
Mist so dark mates can't see through it,
To hearing lions and hiding on top of trees:
Branches high, but humans cutting tree trunks;
So I wear disguise's and climbing down
from tree's-to-pulling lame pranks...
Saw the look the bull gave me,
I swore he said thanks.
Copyright © Piercing Words | Year Posted 2018
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