Samsara
So, it seems we meet
Again. You, the bearer of life, and
Me, and my
Small, mundane existence.
Aimlessly drifting along to my own song, I’m in no
Rush now, so many miles still
Ahead of me.
👁 2💬 0
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 (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.