No title:I wrote this when I was 16 when my family wouldnt believe i wrote some of my other poems, I wrote it in front of them in 10/15 mins.
All that has happened,
Is there to be mourned.
Attrocities and disasters bring forth terrible thoughts;
Of hatred and revenge,
They are rumbling to the crust,
The plates they are shaking,
They're grinding more each day,
Underneath the magma is melting away,
Boiling more with each tick,
Growing hotter so quick,
And why it is there, it makes people sick!
Some day it wil explode,
And the world will be cold,
But fore now its locked up,
And oppressed by deteste,
All of the enemies,
They put it to the test,
They loathe at its faith,
And try to keep locked the gate,
Yes the road is not straight,
But the hot stuff will rise,
It will generate steam like a savourous team...of colefillers trapped in a ship moving fast,
This poem I declare,
the ending will last,
Until the magma has rose,
And the earthquake is cast
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