Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
A glass vase upon the floor,
Faster than it can stand,
Becoming evermore,
the likeness of it's impermanence.
The contents it can't hold,
Intermixed with its being,
Becomes a new truth.

We are that which we hold,
when we cannot let go.
Sometimes life lets go for us.
ponny jo
Written by
ponny jo
Please log in to view and add comments on poems