Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2020
many has touched my rims to drink their fill, they get back each time, quenched, satiated, filled; what am I, just a glass made of sand from the shores of that gurgling river running free down the country where men, women and children drink their fill , coming back for more just like they drink from my rim...
Pearl
Written by
Pearl
63
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems