By Isabella
Autumn
The Leaves are rustling
The storms
are coming
the
mothers are complaining
oh what a terrible season it
is
oh how meany clothes are we made
to where billion
I beet just standing here in
the cold cold air .
wow that's an awesome poem.phoebe
ReplyDeletenice words, good colors. neve
ReplyDeleteI love your words where did you get them from ? Isabella . Yasmin
ReplyDelete