The Walls are Plain
By Rechab T., 826DC
This poem takes a surreal approach to describing a scene.
I heard a man screaming like a kid.
The walls are plain
and feel colder than Antarctica.
Thanks to people, the air tastes like gasoline.
The tree on the sidewalk is drier than the desert.
I see a teenager doing wheelies
better than a clown.
I see a girl dancing freer
than when we had freedom.