Orange Poppy

November 17, 2010
By kyrstia BRONZE, New Paris, Ohio
kyrstia BRONZE, New Paris, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 2 comments

Sitting there,
In his own silince,
As the sun goes down,
He watches,
Gettting darker now,
He stands,
Still takig in the view,
He now turns,
His back to the sunset,
Looking at his shadow,
Its stretching long now,
He smiles,
But what he says,
It is not nice,
"What has this world come too?"
He bows his head,
Now hes praying,
When hes done,
He walks off,
Into the west,
Because he knows,
He has to go.


The author's comments:
i did this poem bcasue i saw a color named orange poppy and then i thought of this

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This article has 2 comments.


kyrstia BRONZE said...
on May. 5 2011 at 11:39 am
kyrstia BRONZE, New Paris, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 2 comments

Sitting there,

In his own silence,

as the sun goes down,

he watches,

getting darker now,

he stands,

Still taking in the view,

he now turns,

his back to the sunset,

looking at his shadow,

It’s stretching long now,

he smiles,

but what he says,

It is not nice,

"What has this world come to?"

he bows his head,

now he’s praying,

when he’s done,

he walks off,

into the west,

because he knows,

he has to go.


kyrstia BRONZE said...
on May. 5 2011 at 9:52 am
kyrstia BRONZE, New Paris, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 2 comments
okay on the 7th line takig is really taking


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