My 11 Year Old Brother

Here we are going

Down an ever familiar road,

To only find

It's not the same at all.

It used to be 

Something different

But I guess things are never the same.

They are always changing

And improving.

For when things are always changed

They are turned around and 

never the same.

But if they ever did imagine

It standing there

And if it ever was,

Could you say it:

"This was the road I know"?


This poem is about: 
Our world


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