Water can not be
Held, by hand they will not grasp
Past moments once dwelled.
aspiring writer
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from itan zaken and writers in Poets and other communities.
Home. Not a location, nor a structure, But where my mind is at peace. It's an idea, a feeling, A place where I can be me; Alone, but never lonely. Free, without a trace worry.
By itan zaken5 years ago in Poets
i move at a glacial pace how to explain the fuzz in my head the sifting through the thoughts to figure out which ones
By aliabout 11 hours ago in Poets
Love is love. No rules, no limits, no perfect timing. It lies in the little things: A message in the middle of the night,
By FitCOMabout 15 hours ago in Poets
It was the worst of times. Georgia had forever fought being one of those who viewed the glass half empty, but there was a hole in the bucket.
By Katherine D. Graham5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.