Follow your gut to where you want to go,
The scarecrow will show you the way,
An acquiesant beast to portray,
Leaving everyone in the dust,
To fend for themselves,
Holding red flags for a cautionary tale,
In societies woes,
Surrounded by electric poles,
In a very weird setting,
The dandelion's will swallow your soul if you let them,
Say amazing grace to them, before they disappear,
Looks like the scarecrow has a bag on its head, doesn't it?
All for one, and one for all,
Time to party again,
Yippy and rainbow sparkles, that is what you wanted to hear?
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The Harvest
Koyi wobbled to her shabby wood and straw kaz, holding her machete and an old burlap bag with some yams. Someone had laid another basket in front of the patched up door—rose apples today. They were a bright reddish pink, looking waxy and crisp, just the way she liked them. The culprit knew her very well. Those would be crunchy, juicy and sweet—she could tell—but she gathered all the will she could muster and pushed the basket aside to enter her home. She had already said no repeatedly and would not be taking bribes.
By Lily Séjor2 days ago in Fiction
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