falling
dropping
lower
into
the ground
Every step I am getting closer,
From what horrific thing of fate,
brings me here fromthat disaster.
I will not even hesitate.
PLease take Me to a better place,
I've been through so much suffering,
take me where I can see the face,
of Joseph and Mary's offspring.
A better place I am going,
A place where I'll hurt no more.
With love forever growning,
where there's no difference, Rich or Poor.
Raising
up to
a place
with streets
of gold.
A contest entry
- Non-gold winners by Wind Walker.
800 points, ended April 3, 4 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
A nice and wonderful feeling is gotten from this. Congrats on the HM..
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