Sticks And Stones

The world
is us.

We are the
sticks and
stones.

When hands
hold us,
we surrender.

We are
stuck in the
sky of a
green summer.

We are
kept in a
quiet, cold
place.

 

2016

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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Sticks And Stones

  1. 2BKind says:

    Does it have to be a cold place?

  2. Becky Bee says:

    I love your poetry…

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