Steemit poetry contest #9. The Last One Turned 8.
Hey guys, this is my entry for the steemit poetry contest #9 . its about a person lamenting the near end of the year and his hope for the next.. Hope u like it
I broke my legs stumbling on thorn vines.
Halfway I took a stand to carry on.
Sweat and blood won't halt my run.
Near the end, I'm barely keeping my pace.
Maybe now I should rest this race.
I hardly can dance in this finishing festival
and on the brink is my survival.
Folks, they tell me I need a new sun,
but it takes till the new day for one to come.
Yet humans are they that are telling my fate
but at least a new start as the last one turns eight.
photo sources
deposit photos
Well written. I enjoyed reading, try to continue with creative contents.
Gee thanks 😀
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