Poem falls on it's face,
I pick it up,
dust if off!
your not so bad,
it's just me, trying to
do the best I can...
So the Bee does fly away,
and the fly gets squashed,
I think we might be related...
You don't need to be clever
to climb out of your own cage,
and a scribble could mean
absolutely anything to anyone,
so where are we then?
while pointing and heading
the other way...
in a rush, probably,
and I can't get a word out,
without another turning on me...
GRANT FRASER's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Word Block by GRANT FRASER )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 April 1918 – 27 February 2002)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928)
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