Steemit poetry contest #9. The Last One Turned 8.

[annieshaka]

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 cut my palm rope climbing to the start line.

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

Pinterest
deposit photos

Comments

[jaff8]

Well written. I enjoyed reading, try to continue with creative contents.

[annieshaka]

Gee thanks 😀

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