Time is heavy and light. Invisible and visible to the eye.
Relationships were made for time, as time came first marking the beginning of time.
How do we utilize our time? Is it well spent or have we imagined it all?
Tag: Poetry
Who Cries Besides I?
Does the grass cry, when pasture and lawns are being mowed? Do trees cry out to God, asking to ease … More
Cold Blood
I feel it.
And hear it passing me by.
Shadowing and hovering over me
