The Rising Smoke - An Original Poem

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_{Like a yeasted flour

Steadily, the smoke keeps rising

And the furious fire

That sits beneath the heap of hay

Keeps burning brightly.

There is plenty of drinking and dancing

Nobody seems to pay attention

Soon, the fire will romance the idle gallons

Of gunpowder. Boom.

The legs cannot find the shoes

Neither can the eyes find the eyeglasses

Everything is ruined.}

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The Rising Smoke - An Original Poem

Are you a minnow and you're already thinking of giving up on Steemit? Please don't quit. Kindly follow @Steemitcentral and use the steemitcentral tag in your posts to get some upvotes.

I am @gandhibaba, the young man who goes about carrying his magical pen, not his gun, in his pockets.

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