Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Old Shanty Town
With the heat of the sun,
As it fiercely beats down,
There's no shade to be won,
In this old Shanty Town.
The rough row of shacks,
To be seen up and down,
Are riddled with cracks,
In this old Shanty town.
The winds, blowing hard,
Send the tumbleweed down,
To take over a graveyard,
In this old Shanty Town.
And weird echoes resound,
Through doors broken down,
And no welcome is found,
In this old Shanty Town.
Once a horse and its rider,
Came sauntering down,
In the hope of cool cider,
In this old Shanty Town.
That's when there were folk,
Who walked up and down,
And slept and awoke,
In this old Shanty Town.
But these times have flown,
And it's drab and rundown,
And one's all on one's own,
In this old Shanty Town.
poem
by
Ernestine Northover
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black