“But I am hiding in here, that’s the whole point of a hideaway!” Gun Roswell


Safe and sound
From the scorching sun
Hiding under the leaves
Like some common thief
A tiny red truck
Who does not give a fuck
Of the fine days of spring
When everyone’s supposed
To just come out and sing
No, he prefers to hide
In a secret place so nice
Not one single sunny ray
Can cause disarray
For his colour of red
Could so easily be shed
Under the bright light
Leaving only rust behind
So, for the durance
He will take his stance
Under the trees
Where no one him sees

2 thoughts on “Hiding

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