Life is not certain.
We want it to be.
Sometimes we even manage
to convince ourselves, it is.
That's how it gets us.
One minute we're writing along,
then we're out of ink.
Out of time, out of space,
out of body experiences.
Few get second chances,
bounced back off a bubble.
This is your second chance.
Make the most of it.
1 Pages:1
Please Rate This Submission:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- Recent
Comments - Add a
Comment - Send
Feedback Send private anonymous feedback to the author (click here to post a public comment instead).
There are no recent comments (2 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (2)