I felt my life,
with my both hands.
Just to find out,
that it is there.
I look at my prints,
with my both eyes.
Just to find out,
that I’m move on.
My soul was bleed.
My heart was weep.
But I am pleased,
to find out that I am here.
Sufficiency
September 10, 2007 at 10:29 pm (incandescent, poetry)
Tags: incandescent, poetry
