Left behind, unseen legacies,
We don't think much of our regular travels,
What is rain to a fish that lives in the open seas?
When hands touch a story unravels,
And our lives leave behind so much,
with a surprising bit in the things we touch.
Left behind, unseen legacies,
We leaves our mark on so many hearts,
and we have rippling effects that branch like trees..
Where are our fingerprints now, and where will they be,
who will have yours left on their heart and remember you warmly?
YOU ARE READING
A Gaze Through My Reality-scope
PoetryA collection of 100 of my poetry works which are available on other sites, with a few exclusives.
