What's so pure about new beginnings —
about the first breath ever taken,
about the first physical contact?
We came as a speck of dust each,
you and I, and when together
we stick and remain;
we stick and contaminate.
Mother called, saying, "Thank you, pure,
now, there's no way back."
(d.r.)
YOU ARE READING
Black & Poisonous
Poetry"She had 50 days left to live. She had 5000 words left to say." A compilation of 50-word poems by a child who longed to see a better future than the one they've set for themselves. Each piece takes 12 seconds to read. #833 - 27/05/17 #687 - 28/05...
