Sally's hands were rough and worn like a baseball mitt,
Firm and steady like a great big oak,
Quick and light like a pouncing cat,
But Sally's hands had a bit.
Fierce and vicious like a snapping shark
Sally held my hands in hers, but she held a little too tightly.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Unfinished Poems
Thơ CaSometimes I write in the early morning hours. When everyone else is sleeping and I'm the only one up, inspiration sparks.
