Dirt, Mud, Rock, and Sand
Earth, the ground that we call land
Solid to the touch
Fire's hot and cause's fright
Flame's burning producing light
Give warmth to the night
Take in a deep breath
The air blowing through the wind
It's perfect when fresh
A river will flow
An Ocean make's monstrous wave's
And Water is wet
About the Creator
Dylan
Hello! I am a writer, poet, rapper, and musician trying to make it in this crazy world! If you like my poem's please leave a like and subscribe!
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181 Keeping Watch
Each day she watched through her window. Watched? Perhaps an exaggeration: a monochromatic nuclear aftermath remaining of the world, blurring into a blindness--loss of contrast and depth of field. Achromatic aberrations displayed a waste-scape stratified in grays.
By Gerard DiLeo3 days ago in Fiction
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