Poetry, Write Ups

Satire

The old factory is still standing
Though the doors are cracked
And paint is chipped

And there is this old tower
in the backyard
With a spiral staircase
That we used to climb on
To watch over the wintertown

Sun shining upon us
Laughs echoing through winds
Arm in arm , we walked down the lane

Eyes of sapphire and lips of wildfire
Though your presence was greatly required
But our fate , oh what a satire

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