The hole, by George Chow Subscribe to rss feed for George Chow

Wilderness dig holes,
since mother nature only mercy when God blink His eyes for
her mentions o creations.
Pioneer says early age dinosaurs obey to the salty water
holes change the earth.
Ancients tells oldest time the fire started the rocks
falling from the sky as holes change the earth.
But what make the sense is if I look at each house hold
window, feel if its the fear of memory despair the lonely
life.
Or the faith conqure the lonely time.
Some window are ark.
Some are white.
Some are yellow.
Some are styles of currtains.
Some are rare like the rainbow depend on seasons.
And all these make me have a sense i never knew.
When the hole is known.
I will never trip into an abyss of lies and temptation.
As I am paving my roads.
Posted: 2015-06-29 04:07:36 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
Tweet