Poem Hunter
Swan River Flow
JP (Scratches on the page, making noise. / New York City)

Swan River Flow

Oh little river by me.
Flow onward to the sea.
Black brown, not so free.
Funny BUBBLES by the lea.
Dead fish float before my eye.
Vacant look beyond death's way.
Birds swoop - then they fly high.
Putrid smell comes from the bay.
Factories vomit more with time.
Baby birds with clouded eye's.
Grass wilted over to add rhyme.
Young child died - playing at five.
Just this moment-I need a drink.
Where to run - RUSTY WATER SINK.
Sun can't reflect into the sky.
GOD looked down and only sighed.

From my book: DREAMS 2


User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

Comments (1)

got the theme here...well written and explained