I entered in a poem contest a couple weeks ago. People aged 11-16 all entered their poems. There were 504 contestants. I placed 2nd. 2nd. With my poem. Enjoy.
Icicles~ By dave. It implies that all things eventually come to an end. No matter how long you hold on. Autumn swirls into our season. As we form onto frosty edges for no apparent reason. Blossoming in the bitter cold. We are truly a sight to behold. Snow and Ice waiting to befriend. waiting for the majestic blend. Growing more unique day after day. We will become a wonderful display. As time goes on we twist and turn into an unforgettable shape. The scenery being wrapped in our breathtaking cape. The people gaze in examination. We hold tight, a crystal decoration. But all beautiful things halt to an end. Sadly, we will not mend. The sun Scorches us, baking us in heat. It would take a miracle to survive this feat. We start to lose our grip. With every D R I P . … Now we’re but a puddle on the floor. Nothing like we were before. ~ Dave.
