The pear I stole off the tree was amazing
Its green color contrasted with the surrounding savannah,
The joy of life brought me deeper into depression.
As the trying and depressing war drew on,
I fell deeper into being homeless and nothing mattered because I am worthless.
Now that the light in my life has gone away
Under a tree I lay
Hoping for someone to say and pay.
Alive
Then
B
O
O
M
Not.
Have we young children got our priorities straight?
Children will struggle beneath the graves of society.
This poem is good- because it is depressing- death.
Share your death with misery of beautiful happiness throughout hills in your villages.