Written By: D. Collins 9/23/17
Wait 'til tomorrow when all brothers kick in.
Something that never should've been said by a President.
Does he remember Gayle Sayers and Walter Payton?
People who gave of themselves to save this nation.
The SOB's are coming out based on what he said.
Even white boys know without us the league is dead.
Wait 'til tomorrow, when the SOB's show off.
Kneel down on one knee and show their Patriots.
Tomorrow, around one, the world will see.
Even white boys acting just like me.
Dirty is dirty, and it has no color.
Wait 'til tomorrow, guaranteed, my brother.
My mother was like a rose
beautiful at sight
frail to touch.
She could stand up
and say her mind.
She needed love
I feel like she never got any.
And that’s why she withered away
like a rose.
Her heart was pure,
her soul made of gold.
She’d rustle in the wind,
and hide when cold,
much like a blooming rose.
Day by day
a petal would drop
‘til nothing was left.
She was the dying rose.
And as each day goes by
without her sweet melody,
I tell myself this:
I must not cry that she is gone
but smile,
she was here.
Written by my 10-y.o. daughter Payton
here one day
gone the next
never thought i'd see the day
that you'd go before i
if i could go back
i would do it all over
i can not press rewind
just got to leave you behind
you are in a better place now
rest in peace Payton
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.