Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Poem Time: Putt Putt Golf

I say "What? What?"
You say "Putt Putt."
Little buildings
Under us like ants
We stand tall
Hitting a golf ball
Things get smaller
As we get bigger
Is that a cell phone
Or a cell phone
Make a call with that
That little tiny tictac
As we grow like giants
The Windmill is as big as my pants
How will I know once I am grown
What is small and or large
This is an astronomical charge
Or is it a tiny tip
Is this a sip?
Or a whole pot
Am I big, I forgot?
Take a shot
Hole in two
Are you impressed
By the the shot the distance of my shoe
Windmill
Standing still
A gold club
Just me, the scrub


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