Poetry Bastards of the Unwashed Village
Thursday, 25 September 2014
Water
Running
Flowing
Life is flowing through me
Grabbing it, like holding a lightning bolt
It melts through my hands
I can't take back that lost essence
Of me
My life, is flowing away
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment