Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2016
we hold it in our hands, inside our chests,
in our eyes, inside our souls.
then it eats away us slowly.
decaying. rotting. dying.
that's why we swing from vine to vine,
just to get a hold of something.
just to feel something between our grips.
just to make it less empty,
make us more alive.
alex
Written by
alex  23
(23)   
469
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems