The CourthouseA Poem by the king's scribeI wrote this in middle school and it's really shortDust is settling on the wood Everybody’s in a mood All the people shuffling around Order cannot and will not be found Sweat rolls down the heads of the worried Tremors in the legs of the hurried It’s where there is no time bided And many fates are to be decided © 2016 the king's scribe |
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Added on October 22, 2016 Last Updated on October 22, 2016 Author
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