Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The hand strikes 12 Brandishing its ringed mark, Twelve times, 12 cries out As it is hit repeatedly, The hand passes, Leaving 12 exhausted, With the mark of the hand Red on 12s face.
0
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
Never Changing Time
The hand strikes 12 Brandishing its ringed mark, Twelve times, 12 cries out As it is hit repeatedly, The hand passes, Leaving 12 exhausted, With the mark of the hand Red on 12s face.
sofiabelhadj
Written by
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem