That was my string.
I kept pulling it out.
It kept going
And I wondered when
It would end.
I could see the bottom,
But I wasn't there yet.
I held on it too long
And maybe, I should let go.
And that's when I thought
Rest is sweet,
And my fingers didn't know,
It didn't hold anymore.
YOU ARE READING
War Underneath
PoetryWords and thoughts about things that are fought within the heart, soul, and mind. The flesh is weak, but the spirit is willing; And the dog you choose to feed will win. ~~~~~ Author Note: I will warn you that words can wield just like a sword and t...
