Like sand dripping through my fingers
I feel you leaving me, slipping through my clasp.
Holding on, is futile and senseless
The harder I grasp, the more I lose my grip.
You were not meant for my hands,
Nor were my hands made for you.
In my arms you do not belong,
A lonely stranger at my side.
Your smile is etched [...]
Inihanay sa: Selvo's space | 9 Puna »
