The Hands Of Time Poem by Madrason .

The Hands Of Time



I see the dry desert sands
the stripes on my hands
the strength of the skin
i ve been born in
dust is collecting
grey lines connecting
-he keeps rejecting-
the lifetime
the lifeline
now i recognise
i have to realise,
visualising
that i too
..........am,
could be him.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
20-04-2013 Madrason
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Madrason .

Madrason .

waalwijk netherlands
Close
Error Success