Legs, by Kabntsig Xiong

My dear legs

That support me

Take me places and hold me high

Do as I request; rather it’s wet or dry

The glory of heels and the pain of sharp glasses

Only resting as I sit or sleep,

The weights you carry,

The blood you shed and bruises you share

I remembered them.

So dear feet,

Thanks for being there for me.

Comments RSS Both comments and pings are currently closed.

Comments are closed.