Futile Poem by Bien Nathaniel Gerodias

Futile

Along the shore
I plant seeds
roots stretching unseen
threads searching for the soil

But you press stones deep
weighted words that sink below
where my tendrils can't reach

Your map lies buried
a language of silence etched and stilled
while mine dances on the surface
drifting, never quite touching

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success