Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
I’m holding on tight to the past
That I knew wouldn’t last
While you’re pulled to the future
By his hands on your back.

Do you know what it’s like?
Stand on the beach,
And watch as one of our children
Gets pulled out to sea
By the fatal, and invisible undertow.
Speaking Sorrow
Written by
Speaking Sorrow  23/North Carolina
(23/North Carolina)   
136
   D, Kalon and aar505n
Please log in to view and add comments on poems