In the city of Atlanta,
The simplest game of hide-and-seek,
Turns into murder
He asphyxiates underground,
He’s an unsolved mystery
In a city where no one has answers
Everyone knows southerners are slow.
We call it I-20 East and
Getting back to Conyers,
May just take all evening.
We don’t talk,
We barely breathe
In a sea of cars, no one speaks,
Sitting still gripping a leather bar
We have complicated the simple art of
Breathing by suffocating ourselves
And everyone knows southerners are slow.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
140,563 Literary Works • 673,441 Reviews
I am not a southerner. AGHHHH!!!!
Eh, it was pretty good. Wasn't great, but it was amusing in my opinion.
You had some good stanzas and words, but it could use some work...
I agree with ohhewwo, I unterstood but I didn't unterstand it...
I understood the literal meanings, but, I couldn't tell what you were trying to get through here.
I looked at this, because I hate it when people make fun of the South. Me being from Alabama, I've heard enough of it. Had you not been a Southerner yourself, Chevy, this crit would have been a jumble of cursing and ranting.
But, yeah, I understood it, I just didn't ... unsderstand ... it ...?