Holding On


Always, always its the same
A hunger so desperate, but a crumb so thin
The dire need to run on broken limbs
Warmth of a few threads and strings
Holding on to the humanity with crumbled dreams
Why can’t it be simple
A life of dream
A life of sense
Steps of hope and countless things.
© Akhand Singh, 2018 © An Empty Glass, 2018
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