Hands groping despairingly
for things they don't deserve:
sunshine and laughter- happy things,
just out of reach;
the fumbling hands ought to be impeached.
YOU ARE READING
When The Heart Whispers
PoesiaThe poems reflect evergreen and intense emotions while others are as light and weightless as feathers. It's like the heart whispers softly, waiting to be heard. ~Vote and Comment~ © tanxsha [Previously warped_realities]
