little me running down the playground
little he, little she
little did me know
that life went round and round
she could only ever be
a shadow chasing echoes,
feet barely on the ground.
little hands grasping moments,
but never holding them down.
laughter bent like old glow sticks
words with edges, smoothed to fit.
echoes stretching through the playground
familiar, yet never knit
Little me laughted, little me played,
little me learned how to hide.
Folded her tongue in careful shapes,
made his name small to survive.
But the wind still whispered,
the rain still hummed -
Little me ran, and the world still spun.
-
Author:
xqw (
Offline) - Published: April 9th, 2025 13:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Neilton
Offline)
Comments3
little me didn't worry so much...I miss those days!
Poetically written this tells its story. Very nice a fave
A beautifully written write of the story of the little people, enjoyed the read
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.