Dette er et digt som jeg skrev forleden i skolen, det blev bare så godt (syntes jeg) at det skulle med her.


1. Storm

When I look out of the window, I see,

A glimpse of the world in the lightning’s sea.

Palms are waving in the wroth winds of the souths storms,

The building and cars are shocked in their fragile forms.

The clouds is black and heavy, filled with rain,

Which is coming down in ice-cold strains.

The wind is getting stronger and a little house crashes,

The white bricks falls to the ground and by a lightning, it burns to ashes.

In the noisy background a big bell is ringing,

People screams and is tossed by wind, which is singing.

A little careful care is driving down the foggy side,

But it is smashed by a sudden lightning strike.

The wind, lightning and rain is making a harmony,

Of death, accidents, damage as a song in diversity.

I’m sitting here in my comfy and safety chair,

With dirt, ash and sweat in my tousled hair.


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