southern
Learn more about other poetry terms
My momma always did say those bradford pears,
Smelled like the dead,
Somethin’ ‘bout a southern curse.
Ain’t nothin’ lonelier bein’ inside these pine walls,
I heard the hurricane
Felt the air pressure change
Terrified for my crouching child
Holding her as tight as I could
Blocking her from danger
As my master cracks his whip
I heard the hurricane
Felt the air pressure change
Terrified for my crouching child
Holding her as tight as I could
Blocking her from danger
As my master cracks his whip
Homemade Vanilla. The Great Divide.
I can't choose--either side!
Butter Pecan. Cookies 'n Cream.
I'd love some more! Yes, please!
Dutch Chocolate. Moo-llenium Crunch.
It's my icecream! Don't you dare touch!
I apologize that
my tongue does
not flap the way
yours does
I’m sorry my
vernacular does
not meet your
standards
My southern twang
drips sparingly from
I don't own a lot of things
all i have are these set of strings
i played my way through the southern streams
