Poems from pottersclay39
Blood stained hands, seeping red like wine at a wedding. Not a joyous occasion, but a tragedy and scandal. Pierced hands and pierced feet...
Conception.
Two cells coming together to create one new being.
A small precious person growing, living.
Compacted with purpose and...
No makeup. No dye. Just freckles with red hair. Brown eyes with eyebrows to match. Left handed but in the right mind, yet right in most...
What is life? Can it be seen underneath the tissues, the muscles, and the tears? We have this concept, but miss its meaning. Life. We each...
I wake up, silence. The earth applauds. My very life-meaningful. It has a cause. I breathe, I feel. I am existing. Lights, cameras, who...