My friend Kessa’ and I <br />Always loved writing <br />Poetry was our favorite <br />Everyday on the old yellow school bus <br />Number 6 or 149 <br />She and I would read to each other <br />What we had come up with <br />The night before <br /> <br />I was always a little <br />Green with envy <br />Because her writing seemed much <br />More mature than mine <br /> <br />But one day we realized <br />That poetry was dying <br />Even though so many people <br />Write it all over the world <br />Poetry has lost it’s fame <br /> <br />Kessa had started a poetry club <br />But no one showed except me <br />We wondered why that was <br />For poetry was a wonderful <br />Thing <br />A great outlet <br />When things went wrong <br />Which they always did <br /> <br />To me it has become the dying race <br />Hanging on a thin thread <br />Of life <br />What miracle will happen to keep it float <br />Who will make difference <br />To relight poetry <br />In everyone’s mind?<br /><br />Sydne Morris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dying-race-2/
