for some reason china made me write poetry, bad poetry, but i thought i would share them anyway!
Standing there,
hundreds of years,
Thousands of steps,
miles long.
small handrail,
treading along,
hold on
for dear life.
Cold seeping in,
Bundled into layers,
and layers of clothes,
cold ears.
red nose.
picture with kids,
Danish liquorice,
no thanks,
one of thirty two pearls
in a bucket of amber.
