The Deep Tracks of Unwanted Advances
In ancient times your reddened sands, Were struck by courtiers from space; They scarred you with their giant hands, Then watched as tears fell down
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
In ancient times your reddened sands, Were struck by courtiers from space; They scarred you with their giant hands, Then watched as tears fell down
Emerging from my host now fully grown, I test my twisted wings on freedom short; Then start my search for your sweet pheromone, And spy