Hands to us grow or perish
its all what we do with them,
a gift in lifes treasures
reside in each and everyone of us,
deem the actions in our own creation
reflect in others granting permission
or ideas spoken never thought of before,
a child learning to decide...
rights and wrongs, inside a perfection idols
where are we wrong, twist or pass the plan
so we look perfect again, in colors rainbowing
heavens kindness or hells bitter devour.
A contest entry
- a wrinkle in time by sailor ptolema.
330 points, ended October 10, 2008, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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parish: are members of a religious community.
i think you meant "perish"
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very interesting
We all make decisions everyday. Some with our minds some with our hearts. Knowing the right one is wisdom, or could it be fate. Good write, makes one think, The Shaker
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