Life
Life is a whisper soon lost from hearing
A vapor that vanishes in the wind.
A fragrant aroma that slowly fades away.
A bittersweet cup that must be drunk.
A flower in a meadow- here one day and gone the next.
The best kind of life is the stone that is cast in the water,
Disappears from sight, but whose ripples continue forever.
👁 4💬 2
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (2)
Log in to leave a comment.