A Thunderstorm
It swiftly flies,
Dark is the sky,
Drip drop, drip drop,
Sounds roof atop.
All the trees bend,
Without an end.
With some control?
Not this black hole.
A cloud goes pow,
It takes a bow.
A flash of light,
Starts a fistfight.
The fight goes on,
Not once withdrawn.
What was that swarm?
A thunderstorm.
👁 2💬 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.