At night he rides with light, Prowling with little fright.
At day he makes no fray, Being oh so gay.
At dusk he readies his tusk, Feeding from his musk.
At dawn he lies his yawn, As he secrets all his brawn
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Author:
Thinker (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 7th, 2017 21:19
- Comment from author about the poem: He is only a hero of the system of repitition.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
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