When some people speak of the Midwest
They talk as if she’s the jilted cinderella
Whose prince neglected, and I must defend her,
Not always cold, no oceans or mountains, sister,
But 600,000 sandhill cranes wade in her water.
The east coast comes to play sport, play act, pay
To play, play around, play the innocent, put in play.
The west coast comes to run by, run.
They say nothing eventful happens to her.
Then they blame her for Trump.
Lol! I didn’t expect the ending!
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Love my Midwest , though not my birthplace. “Don’t “ matter.
Sent from my iPhone
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You should hear what they say about her ugly step sister, the south.
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Perfect poem to read on a day when the Midwest is all the news…for its cold weather!
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