Friday, February 6, 2015
People slip in to our lives in peculiar ways
One minute a stranger on the street,
One day a necessity to breathe.
Just a tiny crack in your strong facade.
It will worm itself in - where it has to go.
One moment, an inevitability
Yes, people slip in to our lives in peculiar ways.
One minute you're a stranger to yourself,
One morning, one-other stranger in your bed.
You clean it up, rebuild.
Put plaster over the cracks.
One question; did you grow?
Topic(s) of this poem: growth