Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 17
And I now hold them like water in my hands
For no matter how tight my grip gets
They’d still slip through my little fingers
They’d still drip, though I watch
I, who no longer control power
I, who no longer be mad
So toast to the peace!
The peace, I grant unto you
Til I change my mind
A poem for a painting
Tita Halaman
Written by
Tita Halaman  26/F/Manila, PH
(26/F/Manila, PH)   
75
   MS Anjaan
Please log in to view and add comments on poems