Trip - my poetry
Trip
I trip over goodbyes
that lay in my path
like roots on a forest floor
I can never seem to lift my feet
high enough to step over them
My clumsy heart always catches
on moments of parting
and as gravity takes hold
I beg the ground to spare
the small part of me that still
has enough courage to say
hello
0
0
0.000
Hello!
This post has been manually curated, resteemed
and gifted with some virtually delicious cake
from the @helpiecake curation team!
Much love to you from all of us at @helpie!
Keep up the great work!
Manually curated by @sunravelme.
@helpie is a Community Witness.
Stunning photo