Tuesday, April 24, 2007

ANZAC - Fear

Red the colour of a bright tomato
Like smoke in your throot as white as clouds
Smells like gas through your black nose
Fire as bright as a fire engine
Bombs that pop your ear drums out
Like your trapped under a piece of concrete

By Kaitlyn

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

mint poem

Anonymous said...

Good work my Katie

Anonymous said...

NICE POEM KAITLIN!!!