I Keep It Hid
Oh maybe someday you will understand,
why I talk of leaving this fast land.
I’m going somewhere for strange people,
I know it will have that church steeple.
My memories of this place shall stay,
deep in my mind til by dying day.
Grass shall be thickest and greenest,
kite flying there will be at its best.
The sky will be according to thought,
whether it be sunshine, rain or drought.
Copyright © Pax Geist | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment