After the Parade (English Sonnet)
This time an English sonnet with a poem set in Spain
The Andalusian heat reigns down on me
Another morning with breakfast in Spain
Flapping my wings once more feeling so free
feeling for once weightless within my brain
Listening to Björk as the world goes by
My next destination already planned
Home where my mother cooks me Shepard's pie
I loved Spain but I miss my homeland
These past three months have felt like a parade
always a party but always busy
finding my place, I always felt delayed
But this parade made me feel less dizzy
No need to think extracurricular
My place is nowhere in particular
About the Creator
Some Guy
I kinda suck at writing but I enjoy it
Anyway, here's a dumb little haiku:
The gunslinger draws
His opponent does the same
oh dear, they both died
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx7 days ago in FYI
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.