The busy street of Smithfield.
As the days goes on this street is more crowded.
During a red light it is like a swarm of birds attacking a piece of bread,
but when the lights turn green they run away.
People making the wrong turn BEEP, the driver begins yelling "its not your turn!!!"
As I walk across the street I trip on the bumpy road that's ahead of me.
The wind blows heavily telling me "just keep moving on" and I step on the onto the smooth path.
I reach the other side of the street and the day starts all over again.
Peaceful, then crazy and noisy, and then everything gets sleepy and calm.
The cycle starts all over again.
As the days goes on this street is more crowded.
During a red light it is like a swarm of birds attacking a piece of bread,
but when the lights turn green they run away.
People making the wrong turn BEEP, the driver begins yelling "its not your turn!!!"
As I walk across the street I trip on the bumpy road that's ahead of me.
The wind blows heavily telling me "just keep moving on" and I step on the onto the smooth path.
I reach the other side of the street and the day starts all over again.
Peaceful, then crazy and noisy, and then everything gets sleepy and calm.
The cycle starts all over again.
this is nice i love the flow of this poem nice job* bree
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