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Teardrops from the trees.
A teardrop falls from the tree. I think it's telling us that the end is here for you and me. The sun turns a shade of black, and now is the time do not look back. The deer are running by, and you can see all their tracks. The moon won't rise, and the birds will fall from the sky. Tomorrow will never arrive. It's too late to kneel down and cry. I really think we're going to die. Then I see a bright light shining down from the sky. I think there is hope, and maybe we will survive. He has arrived.
About this poem
It's a poem about the end of time.
Written on January 03, 2024
Submitted by alanswansea18 on January 03, 2024
Modified by alanswansea18 on January 03, 2024
- 33 sec read
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"Poetry.com" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/>.
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