What is this place? Wondered Bo Peep,
No rivers, no streams, no peaks so steep!
The grasslands are missing; no soul on the streets,
The paths are hard, made of concrete.
The houses are tall, the doors shut tight,
The trees are few, with no birds in sight.
What is this place? How did I get here?
My wretched sheep! She cursed in fear.
Bo Peep had walked long, her mouth was dry,
She looked for a spring or a stream nearby.
She looked all around, her throat now parched,
A tap went past, but on she marched.
Thought of trying something different this Friday… 😀
98 words for Madison’s Friday Prompt: