Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Words. Elusive like wild mustangs. Without a beginning or an end. Keeper of my truth. Words. Nomads of ****** lands. I sit on them. I feel their galloping rhythm. Words. Still. My soul translates. A new day.
0
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
Words
Words. Elusive like wild mustangs. Without a beginning or an end. Keeper of my truth. Words. Nomads of ****** lands. I sit on them. I feel their galloping rhythm. Words. Still. My soul translates. A new day.
Written by
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem