Wednesday 11 April 2018

My poem about the storm

The Storm

I see the howling wind mercilessly blowing.

I smell burnt wood with a hint of fear.

I taste bitterness in my mouth and its not going away.

I hear crashing trees and crackling burnt wood.

I touch the cold walls in the hallway and sudden chill goes up my spine and I feel scared wondering what will happen next.
Image result for lightning

1 comment:

  1. Hi molly! I really enjoyed your poem it was interesting. good job!!

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