If Crying is a Storm, Praying is the Thunder

By
"I held faith,
glittering, gleaming and dull,
like water
in my cupped, anxious hands.
You tugged,
pulled,
cried and broke
my fingers apart.
Until beliefs
dripped,
drained,
spilled out of my
yearning grasp.
And hope
falls like rain these days."





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YouKnowMe said...
Feb. 10, 2009 at 1:22 am
I like the last line.
 
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