Summertime
I wake up to the glaring sun,
the waves rolling calm,
I can feel we will have fun
in the mobility of the palm,
so we slap out our first set
in hope of a load,
a bag of fish rolls up I'm wet
therefore I feel like a toad,
3 days later we come in deckloaded
my mind is running though money imploded.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
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.