It was dry,
I could feel each grain of sand
scrape,
my rough, cracked feet.
I wish I could cry,
though everyone said that
was selfish of me.
I am told 'you do not waste silver on sadness'
God will shower those who believe, that hope controls.
If I closed my eyes hard enough,
believe hard enough,
I can taste it,
feel it on my skin,
On my cracked soul.
Then.
I no longer had to believe,
no longer needed to close
my eyes.
With my eyes open,
I could see my fountain of youth.
YOU ARE READING
Afternoon Thoughts
PoetryHer head felt light in that moment, She felt as if was drunk on starlight, Her bare toes grazing dewy grass, Breathing in the sweet scent that was finally her.
