Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2013
The gods gave you these feet to run, run, run. Walk, stumble, fall. Stand.
The gods gave you these feet to break, to heal, to wander all your days

When your pretty face holds those bright eyes to the ground,
Walk, walk, walk
They can't take that from you

This dirt road has been travelled
But these grass roots are waiting for you

When these feet can take no more, the gods will call you home
Still but ever-moving,
You are the wanderer
The gods wait to meet the hands that match those feet
Plain Jane Glory
Written by
Plain Jane Glory  Γsland
(Ísland)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems