When my ****** hands reached the top,
My palms without lines to read,
And my fingertips stripped of identity,
My fragile lungs violently exhaled,
My honest eyes disappointed me,
I had not reached the zenith,
For this was merely the end of the beginning.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
When my ****** hands reached the top,
My palms without lines to read,
And my fingertips stripped of identity,
My fragile lungs violently exhaled,
My honest eyes disappointed me,
I had not reached the zenith,
For this was merely the end of the beginning.
