Fine White Lass... Poem by M.A. Wood
Fine White Lass...
In the north,
I knew a fine white lass,
But down south, they were cold as ice to me.
To whistle at a white gal,
Though beyond stupidity,
Was to be my epiphany.
I whistled at a fine white women,
She simply glared at me,
And now here I am, next to Death,
Riding into Eternity.
Note: This was an assignment to write as aa african-american in the south. I hope I did a good job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/5/2024 5:23:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
i think i remember doing these last year in english, is that when you wrote it?