Little Hammer Poem by poem whore
Little Hammer
I set and wait if at all only for a few days
it has gotten cold (rain to snow) all as the wind blows
some parts of the day you can see the moutains fare away
high are their peaks it seems from looking down what seems
to be beneith, my weapon is packed there is no looking back
I am going to get mine and it would seem that I would freeze
this moment in time like the frost nippin at my nose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 3:49:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
