Poem #34.0: What
#34 of Poetry
So, Ruin is not my FIRST poem; just my first serious poem. I found this hidden on my grandma's old dinosaur of a computer. This is a poem I wrote when I was around 8-10 I think? Anyways, here it is.
What
It's sad but it's happy.
He's mean but he's nice.
He's cold but he's hot.
He's cool but he's a nerd.
It's fixed but it's broken.
It's ink but it's led.
It's loud but it's quite.
It's straight but it's uneven.
It's a cat but it's a dog.
It's worded but it's blank.
It's soft but it's hard.
It's rough but it's smooth.
It's square but it's circular.
It's a word but it's a sentence.
It's alive but it's dead.
It's something but it's nothing.
It has a name but it's nameless.
It's paper but it's rock.
It's addition but it's subtraction.
It's multiplication but it's division.
It's unique but it's plain.
It's transparent but it's solid.
It's loved but it's hated.
~bhscorch