holding
up books
with
all might
waiting
all ways
to lose a book.
Within
every shelf
holding with
no
respect.
When
it
can't take
it anymore
it cracks
and dies.
When
another
is made
it waits
on a
shelf.
And when
bought.
This
poem
is
repeated
for
generations
until
there
is
no
more
left
in the world.
A poem by my Third Grade Son. The assignment was to write a poem about an object taken for granted.
Well done, to your third grade son!
ReplyDeleteA classic poem for the ages !! Congratulations !!!
ReplyDeletewow, that's great!
ReplyDeletei don't know many adults that can express themselves that eloquently...
thumbs up!
ReplyDelete