My dad whistled the other day.
Said he found a new rhyme.
One can only tell with time.
The King.
The beggar on the street.
Nestled at the feet
of him who reigns.
Poems of my fathers draw near
- Gisella Perezarce
- Pasadena, California, United States
- Inspired by the poems of my great-grandfather, grandmother, and my father, my sister and I continue to write. This is a simple offering of mine.
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