The pot

Posted byEchoes of the soulPosted inPoemTags:, , , , , , 
A crack
From a fall
Widening deeper
disintegrating the pot
Till only mud remained
And then I knew
Mud it was
Only

Pot 
was built
By two hands, Not one
crafted by care 
Bound by love
And it was built
Not bought

Published by Echoes of the soul

I am a dreamer I weave tales in my mind I am connected to you through these words And through this screen across the virtual world

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