Drop Of Ink #1 Poem by A Waltz For Zizi
Drop Of Ink #1
The way we run towards something
is pretty much similar to how
we run from it. Always.
What differs is your attitude
and the speed you move past others.
We're all lousy runners,
no matter what moves you, it's
what god meant for us, to be lousy.
But me, my dream
is nothing as childish, my chest,
my arms, my fists, even my soul,
I don't need your prayer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 1:31:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
