From my bunk room
I can see...
Mess wildly scattered everywhere,
People trying out the climbing wall,
And groups of giggling girls.
Riding down the Flying Fox I can feel...
Wind streaking through my hair,
My heart thumping like a drum,
And tiredness wash all over me.
Woodend Camp.
Friday, 24 October 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment