Triceratops
I was talking to a Triceratops,
About the age-old, meaning of life.
He said, he didn’t have the answer,
But, would go and ask his wife.
Moments later he returned,
Disappointment, etched over his face.
She said, “it’s no good asking me,”
We got wiped out;
by a thing, from Outer Space.
Copyright © Kevin Shaw | Year Posted 2017
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