Forbearance Poem by Kristopher Donovan
Forbearance
Like blades of grass
cut from the morning grind
constantly search
For what we need to find
Even if the sight is unclear
To finish this game of life
Mustn't hurry, the linger of death is always near
Before our time is up
Shouldn't live our life
by running amok
The breeze of the upcoming season begins to stir
The wind whistles & reoccurs
The feeling of silence
Is lovely when you're in the right place
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/11/2024 2:57:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
