My Life In Poetry

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Tag: Roadtrips

  • Falling Rock

    Riding through the mountainsWhen I was but a small child,Watching all the sites go by,My eyes would become beguiled. I loved the tall green forest,The dark tunnels we rode through,The Smokey Mountain skies of mist,The sparkling streams of crystal blue. But one sign always bothered me,Watch Out For Falling Rock it read.So, I vigilantly stayed…