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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#455321voted by our readers
By nebraska_blaise SILVER
El Dorado Hills, California
When I was little, The rain fell in shades Of tremulous golds and Furtive greens. But now, as the years Pass, the rain only Comes in its moldering Greys and muted blues...
El Dorado Hills, California
When I was little, The rain fell in shades Of tremulous golds and Furtive greens. But now, as the years Pass, the rain only Comes in its moldering Greys and muted blues...