The Fight


Yesterday, an old woman got on my bus in a sad sort of way.
I said,
"Hello madam,
how are you today"?
She said,
"I was having a fight,
right, with the wind".
"He don't have no name".
"All the same",
she continued to say,
"You know that old wind,
he tried to blow me away".

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem