Bomb Shelters

Jerry Wayne Lawrence


Waters Of Gold. Somebody Has Lost A Comb.
Bomb Coming.
Running Waters Can't Get Away From All The Whispers.
Liars, Started This Mess.
Confess, As Much As Possible, 2 The Big Breasted Chick Upstairs.
Chairs Have Disappeared: Our Behinds Look Dumb.
Bomb Coming.
Running From It Ain't Happening.
Laughing & Joking My Way 2 That Ol' Tomb.
Crumb After Crumb.
Bomb Coming.

  • Authors: Broken Ankh (Pseudonym)
  • Visible: All lines
  • Finished: May 30th, 2023 09:00
  • Limit: 15 stanzas
  • Invited: Public (any user can participate)
  • Comment from author about the poem: Who'll Have Fun With This 1?
  • Category: Sociopolitical
  • Views: 1
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