Poem: Four Cinquains

First Base
The ball
Thrown by small hands.
The bat swung wildly with
Hope. A hit! The ball scuttles as
He runs.

Seconds World
Marked and
Marked down. Shop soiled
Untidy, ugly white
Elephants. Our standards are way
Too high.

Climate Change
All you want, you
Cannot deny this rule
You repair a house when it breaks

Shopping Centres
At first I loved
Your sprawling malls. Over time,
I changed, while your centres
Remained the same. Variety
Is gone.


2 thoughts on “Poem: Four Cinquains

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