The WalkerA Poem by Nathan SmithHe sits on his bed Staring at his hands as if They hold the answers. He looks at the bottle of Sand next to him, the hourglass slowly Emptying the top and filling the bottom One grain at a time. It empties and He turns it over. His face blank As a canvas, heart empty As a cave, soul as lonely As the long road he walked today. He waits patiently for the Bottle to turn over once again So he can return to the road, Walking the world with his outstretched thumb, Waiting on someone who can never come. © 2016 Nathan Smith |
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1 Review Added on December 25, 2016 Last Updated on December 25, 2016 Author
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