You can't feel rapture sitting at a desk.
It's always, "I'm not satisfied with me."
The humid air, the skies that feel grotesque,
And so your eyes tear up from potpourri,
And summertime continues with the show,
The bees, the birds, all twittering and gay.
The sunshine sets to nature's sweet chateaux,
Well, after it sees Fiji and Bombay,
The shores of Tripoly and all of that.
And here you are, stuck sitting, waste away.
You wait for foreigners to knock-- rat-tat--
They'll take you to an unknown world risque,
Where no one will be scared to say, "la belle."
So go-- Have fun-- Pack up-- Au'revoir-- Farewell!
Author notes
DON'T LAUGH AT IT...
AHHH
Comments
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Nice...
makes me feel wanting to take off right now!
We all have felt this way so often!
Clearly said, not so much a poetic language...
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AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
i love it.
lol.
viva la france!
great poem about wanderlust (i think?)
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