the wild things (a poem)

Yesenia Flores

we all sit in an old, rusty truck

singing till our lungs just can’t take anymore

these people are what make me feel free

we all have a good time being with each other

we help each other grow

after everything, they pick me up and dust me off

what did i do to deserve people like you?

we sit and sing, never thinking twice about what the world thinks