Way down here (Rough)

People are born here, in the ground.

Some of us never leave- but others sprout legs,

Weave between the miles of tangled roots,

Push trough the weight of the earth

And escape, to live up there with all the other humans,

To bask in the glorious warmth of the big yellow god-

They come down here to visit, now and again

They come in trough the ceiling, holding shovels

and wearing hard hats with lights on em'

They look around,

Meet the locals,

Take some pictures,

and then panic-

When they realize that the earth has swallowed them whole,

and that the only way to return to the surface

is to grow, again.

Every one of them plans to try,

But somebody almost always talks them out of it.

The life style grows on you-

On all of us, here in the ground,

It's dark and quiet down here,

Theirs no reason to leave-

not when you know what's up there

A great big mess,

and other things... I guess

---

It's pretty rough, I'm really tiered.

Let me know what you guys think.

Critiques: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/403c12/not_here/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/405ywr/lies_i_didnt_tell/