This world—
A sacred creation
A lasting role
In a stroke of pace
In a course,
Full with work
And time points
Unable to discern
In those hands
I'm in cage
Where I can't redo
What I drew
For that's the point
To value the hour
To manage the day
Full of vintage
That's the sketch
Of the eternal time
The more it goes
The more it's gone
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Between
ŞiirWords that I should have told you A COLLECTION OF POEMS AND RANDOM THOUGHTS | HIGHEST RANK #7 || 09.22.18|
