Poem -
Salvation
My hands are red-
and chapped.
They burn in a punishment-
of letting go of your hands.
And even when I bring about-
Sweet Salvation.
They burn with an even fierier passion,
As if they are too distraught
Too anguished and fragile-
to accept the fruitful help of a
savior-
But rather
wait for the help of a serendipitous
traitor.
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Comments
You are of the few that have beautiful minds!
thank you so much that's such a wonderful compliment thank you !
I understand what being different and plentiful inside brings this world. You are very welcome young lady, Is saw the glimspe of your heart in the words you spoke. God is amazing and i hope you know this! I have a poem i wrote im gonna send it to you, i would like you to see how i write and what belongs in my soul!
That's so right and thank you I'd love to read it !