When the sun sets in the west,
The colors run,
Like watercolor paint.
A cold goodbye from the sun.
As the moon rises in the east,
Who’s forever changing,
It’s second phase a grin,
One welcoming the night.
When the sun sets in the west,
The colors run,
Like watercolor paint.
A cold goodbye from the sun.
As the moon rises in the east,
Who’s forever changing,
It’s second phase a grin,
One welcoming the night.
As a kid I would sit and listen to the rain,
Thinking of Mother Earth’s pain.
I knew our climate was rising,
My worry went ignored, unsurprising.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.