They say we are like roaring thunder,
but some use too much sunder
We thrive for success,
Others strive to make us a mess
A dime or two a day,
Won't make us gray
They say love your fellow,
That'll make you mellow
One climbing the pit,
The other reading the chit
Stop being so negative
The next day you might be their sedative

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem