In the last post I said I was writing a sort of poem. It's called a Ballad and it's pretty much just a poem that rhymes. "But don't all poems rhyme?" You say? Exactly my point. This is mine.
Screams and shouts echo across the breeze,
But gun fire yells above the wails.
Boats pull ashore with more of deaths tools,
And ammunition in cans and pails.
Change happens when trade boats came,
Leaving death and long red trails.
Some tribes rise and others fall,
Land boundaries separate them all.
More boats come with the british,
Who set out in new Zealand waters.
To kill whales is a serious deed,
But many survive the waters.
Missionaries came to spread the word,
Of god and god alike.
But one would not go for 15 years,In which maori first saw the light.
Hopefully it's not to bad. And water and water totally rhymes. I tested the mealworms last night. Out of 100 mealworms, only one caught the brick. He later made the headlines by terrorising Tokyo. Ok I didn't. But it would have been cool. All for now!