Let us pretend that you are the sea,
and that I am the power
of the last second plea.
Let us pretend that our hate is a flower,
That Love’s time has run out,
that Sundays and Moondays are fast growing stout.
The flower decays
The crow cries alack
The blackness had hid
But it will be back.
The sun won’t forbid
Our hatred its might;
Our despair, our despair, our despair is too bright.
-------- -------- -------- -------
My poetry teacher wants the class to write a poem that rhymes so he gave us these words that each line has to end with. Above is what I came up with.
Constructive criticism will receive a warm welcome.
and that I am the power
of the last second plea.
Let us pretend that our hate is a flower,
That Love’s time has run out,
that Sundays and Moondays are fast growing stout.
The flower decays
The crow cries alack
The blackness had hid
But it will be back.
The sun won’t forbid
Our hatred its might;
Our despair, our despair, our despair is too bright.
-------- -------- -------- -------
My poetry teacher wants the class to write a poem that rhymes so he gave us these words that each line has to end with. Above is what I came up with.
Constructive criticism will receive a warm welcome.