a jungle of dry thorny bushes
branches from one bush, entwine with the other
i have my cloth of silk
caught up in the thorns
the jungle is never ending
my cloth of silk has to pass through
i pull it from one thorn
and it gets caught in the other
moments of freedom are fleeting
sometimes, i pull it too hard
and i tear my cloth of silk
with soft hands, things dont work
3 comments:
i liked this a lot!
you should write more of poetry
(i am assuming it was an original)
ofcourse its original!
hey bhaiya, nice words on perseverance.
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