I used to walk, long and far.
Finding the perfect stone, smooth and shiny.
Grasp it in my fingers, just to remind me,
of what I could possibly gain.
What could maybe be mine?
One toss.
That rock sinks.
behind it leaves a bubble,
one that pops, gone in a blink.
YOU ARE READING
Begging In The Abyss
PoetryIf you would enjoy reading about the abyss of life, love, hope and all else in the form of poetry, well then I think you've found the right place.
