One of Many

October 10, 2017

A pile of sand
runs through
my fingers.
Cool grains
fall all at once,
too tiny to be separated
from each other.
They hit the ground.

That sand pile
is much like
we think
similar thoughts,
and we fall
in a similar pattern.

But if a person stops
and thinks
for himself,
he is his
own piece
of sand.
He can change
the world,
                                     of sand
                                                  at a time.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback