What do you think of this poem?

S

sliceoffriedgold

New member
It is called The Ewells Home


The Ewells Home

Stands afloat of trash.
Axe heads, rusted nails,
And scraps litter the ground.

Thoughts that brew
Within those hollowed halls
Taint with prejudice.

They multiply the grounds
And run rampant like rats
 
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