the closing Curtain
sail on mother boat, as the
anchorage of seaboard tip fail
for the last rope brings drops of
grace
wide open your hands, grip so tight
the slippery road excuses no one, as the
speed forward to the top on the northern sky
weight all the silver and let the gold
sink for nothing, only the lighted
one will comes first...
poem by Antonio Liao
Added by Poetry Lover
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