Apollo and his tan
Here I sit...
Underneath the glory of my sunshine...
But I'm about to throw a fit...
For I am in a bind!
I cannot catch a tan,
For even though I am a god,
The sun is not a fan...
But I still have a killer bod...
So back to the sky I go,
for up there it seems I'm more liked
It seems as if the sky is a foe!
Look upon me as if I'm a kite...
This poem is about:
Our world