Glass, a small touch from a shard will cut your little finger, the little finger that wonders into unknown lands , the little finger that dives the hand into the warm sand on the beach just to feel the touch of the sand, the little finger that wondered into an unknown land of broken glass, the little piece cut, your little finger, but that finger is not done with the world of unknown so it will continue on until it's final day, the little finger that needs a kiss on the tip of it to feel better when it gets cut.
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Dear Future Daughter
PoetryThis is a Spoken Work poem about what i would tell my future daughter.
