Apr 2016
Reaching out,
Chasing, grabbing,
Clawing at something so real,
But it fades in your grasp,
And becomes no more,
Than ripples in the past
Chasing, grabbing,
Clawing at something so real,
But it fades in your grasp,
And becomes no more,
Than ripples in the past
(19/F/Yorkshire)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
