Poems from marselinny
Life is a car ride.
You may face bumps in the road,
But you keep driving.
It’s Saturday. I wake up to the blaring bellows of my father
And the deafening drones of my mother
Demanding me to get up. When I hear the...
Why recycle?
Because it is a simple chore to do,
To do by putting paper and plastic into bins,
Bins whose markings show,
Show the arrowed...
When I was little,
I thought I had the whole world to myself.
My selfish desires transpired into a song
I felt everyone needed to hear.
A...
I’ve always wanted to write a poem about Life,
So here it is:
What is Life?
You see, you can’t define what it means
Until you find what’s...