Poem: Losing Control

I can’t hold on
she is slipping away.
My hands are too weak
but I want her to stay.
I grab on too tight
and she crumbles to pieces,
and I scream to the sky, “What have I done to her, Jesus!”
I’ve taken a ball of perfectly smooth clay
and distorted it in an usual way.
I tried to put a square peg in a round hole
and damaged the beautiful thing I sought to control.


About boywithoutlegs

I am the author of the boy without legs website. I was born without legs and have used the experience to write children's poetry. I would love for anyone to read and be inspired and if you are interested in publishing my poetry please contact me.
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