Madrason writer

Gold Star - 15,417 Points (24-07-1967 / waalwijk netherlands)

The Hands Of Time - Poem by Madrason writer

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,
that i too,
could be him.

Poet's Notes about The Poem

20-04-2013 Madrason

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 19, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 20, 2013

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