Our children made us
Experience the arf, they took us to Eden's garden
For we taught them the language of God
And made them paint his abode quotidian.
We fear which abode
We shall relax hereafter
For our children
No longer learn the letters of God
Their feet no longer darken His abode
They are smoked into the cigarette of civilization.
Olden And Modern Mothers
Paciolo Pen Saint
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 12/10/2019
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Poem topics: fear, garden, relax, experience, language, children, god, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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