Wheel In The Sky
Going nowhere in circles,
at 0.9 km/h with no stops in-between,
32 numbered capsules,
except (superstitiously) 'unlucky' thirteen.
George Ferris is the name
of the man to be cursed,
for it's he who's to blame,
as his was the first.
On the skyline, towering over the town,
the city's pageantry and history,
a blot, a blemish built, an affront to the Crown,
an as yet unsolved mystery,
as to why, despoiling the view,
and to underscore that which I deplore,
England's most popular tourist attraction,
is now the London Eyesore!
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.
