Have you heard the rumours?
Sung by the oak,
They tell of greener pastures,
Beyond this ring of smoke,
Where trees are great in number,
Left all alone,
While roads are lain by branches
Though nothing's set in stone.
So come all young monsters,
Out to the cold,
Run away from the demons,
Created by the old.
They grasp towards the skyline,
Spreading down the fields,
They'll try hard to catch us,
Sway us to their molds.
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Comments about this poem (The Cage by Craig Jordan )
- Damsel of Paradise, ramesh rai
- Satellite Feed, Susan Lacovara
- Feeling Victorious, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- In A Creche In The Mountains, Robert Rorabeck
- Save yourself, gajanan mishra
- True love.....?, Jayatissa Liyanage
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.21, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.20, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.19, Monk E. Biz
- The Puppet of His Heart, Robert Rorabeck