A Grain of Sand
It came to me one morning as I walked between classes. I saw a grain of sand then my mind started a rhyming rhythm in my head. I immediately sat down at a bench and let it flow. I’m usually express myself visually, but that day it came out it prose.
There’s a grain of sand,
in my hand,
from a man,
from another land,
whom I don’t understand,
so I shake his hand.
Isn’t life grand?
Now here I stand,
truth in my hand,
thankful to understand,
that the man,
from another land,
is myself in my hand.
Isn’t life grand!
Add your comment
You need to login or signup to add your comment to this work.