Saturday, 10 December 2016

Crossed fingers.

If it were only like this,
All the time,
I'd be more at peace,
And that must be a sign?
Yet it wouldn't be like this,
If it were to end,
Just different battles,
With which to contend.
So I plant my feet firmly,
Though sway where I stand,
I take a deep breath,
And cross fingers on hand.

No comments:

Post a Comment