Indiana Pacin'
She was the girl with the black hair wavin’. She was the aspiring lyricist, singin’. With Mercury on her mind, She turned the temperature up to two hundred eleven degrees. Cause she wanted to feel so alive. She was strollin' around the town, debatin' on which direction that the wind blows. She was from Indiana, pacin’.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
JDcraft91
I'm a 23 year old college student based out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Currently working on a full length novel as of Aug 2012 and have a few short stories as well. Open to any feedback, criticism, etc and if interested in knowing more about me or offering professional editing services, please email me at [email protected]
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.