Ian peeked through a tiny crack in the prison wall. Outside, London looked as amazing as always. The glistening river wound around the towering buildings, London Bridge standing strong as tons of people strolled on over it and Buckingham Palace stood as elegant as ever. Ian breathed in the fresh frosty air, he was soon distracted by the annoying repetitive whistle from the wardens. He swiftly turned around and glanced around his damp and dusty room, something caught his eye, what was it? Ian froze.
You Are Poem
You are a glorious golden coin,
found in a Roman basement,
glisterning like a saturated puddle of water in the moonlight.
You are a cruising cruise ship,
found in the middle of the bottomless ocean,
crashing through the patterned waves.
You are an enourmous inn,
found next to a busy crossroad,
giving hundreds a place to stay.
You are a drifting drone,
found in the ocean coloured sky,
following the controls of its master.
You are a wooden hut,
standing tall in the rainforest,
giving gentle animals a place to stay.
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