Poetry Blog by Ann Foxglove (alienation)
There’s no room in my tent for you
Only space enough for me
My feet poke out quite brave
The rest of me hidden away.
Bees buzz, grass tickles my toes
That’s all of the world I need
If my tent had a big iron lock
I’d lock it to keep you out.
I’ve got crayons and a big book
And sandwiches in a tin
And I don’t have to let you talk
And I don’t...
Sunday 8th April 2012 4:43 pm
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