Kite grasped within a child's grip
Thin string suddenly slips
Lost past burnt finger tips.
Once was so dear, no long had
Devoured by blue quick sand.
To the nothing reaches desperate, empty hands.
This poem is about:
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741
Login or register to post a comment.