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